


Moonlight

by unniebee



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dragons, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-07 14:05:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 39,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4266033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unniebee/pseuds/unniebee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Chanyeol goes on an Epic Quest to rescue a princess and find his Destiny.  Except his Destiny is <i>not</i> a princess, and doesn’t particularly want to be rescued.  Fairytale!AU written as a gift for <a href="http://allhandson-deck.livejournal.com/">jumpthisship</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

It started when the Crown Prince of the kingdom next door returned home with a princess.

Chanyeol didn’t think the princess was anything particularly special. She was kind of skinny, and a little bit awkward, honestly. But she beamed happily at the crowd when the neighboring King recounted the tale of how his son had rescued her from her evil stepmother’s curse and announced their marriage, and his mother had prodded him and said, “You should find a princess like that.”

Chanyeol found the very idea uninteresting, and shrugged off his mother’s words. But over the next year, more stories reached their royal court, about dashing young knights and the children of kings, all going off on adventures and returning with riches, magical treasures, beautiful princesses, or all three. After the third story started going around the castle’s gossip circle, Chanyeol started to catch snippets of conversation as he passed, about _him._

_Do you think our Prince will ever go on a quest?_

_He’s kind of clumsy. He’d probably get himself killed._

_I heard some of the other kingdoms call him ‘the Stay-At-Home Prince’._

_It’s embarrassing, honestly._

Chanyeol ignored them, because what did they know? He was busy learning how to run a kingdom. He had no time for wild quests or rescuing princesses.

But then, Yura disappeared.

It was the talk of the town for weeks - the Princess Royal was gone without a trace. Some said she ran away, some said she was kidnapped, some said that she hadn’t left at all but had been placed under an evil curse, and was asleep in the highest tower, or living as a mouse under the castle foundations.

The public called for Chanyeol to go after her.

Chanyeol was busy trying to keep his mother from worrying herself right out a window.

Besides, it wasn’t as if he even had any idea where to begin. There were no clues. No trail. Nothing to indicate where she had gone, or why. His older sister was just _gone_ and he was helpless to do anything except try to reassure his parents and take over running the country, because with Yura gone, his mother nearly catatonic with grief, and his father prone to wandering the halls in a daze, there was no one else.

Then, six weeks later, she was back. Rode into the city square looking artfully dishevelled on the back of an unknown knight’s white steed, safe and sound. Overjoyed, not only did their father give his blessing when the knight humbly asked for her hand in marriage, but he offered them half the kingdom as well.

 _Chanyeol’s_ kingdom.

Half gone, just like that.

And then, of course, the inevitable comparisons started, and it seemed like everyone - from the king’s advisors down to the scullery maids - thought Chanyeol’s new brother-in-law was _just what this kingdom needs._

As if Chanyeol hadn’t completely run the kingdom, by himself, for the past six weeks while his entire family was out of commission, and done it so smoothly that barely anyone missed their involvement.

As if the fact that Chanyeol was born to be king, raised to be king, trained in politics and economics and how to balance the needs of the many with the perceptions of the individual, didn’t matter at all.

As if the ability to swing a sword at an ogre translated into the ability to lead a nation.

It wasn’t until Chanyeol overheard his own mother echoing the sentiments, though, that Chanyeol snapped.

“I’m leaving,” he announced over dinner. “Everyone in this damn country wants me to go on an adventure, so I’m going. I’ll try to be back before the wedding.” _I’ll try to have a heroic tale and a princess on my arm, he thought but did not say. Not for me, but for everyone else._

Reactions ranged from skeptical to excited. The only one who seemed genuinely _concerned_ was Yura, which Chanyeol thought was telling, considering she was the only one who had lived the kind of adventure he was talking about. “It’s not all glory and excitement, out there,” she said, as if Chanyeol wasn’t fully aware of that. “Be careful, little brother.”

He hugged her hard and assured her he’d be fine. She told him to start by heading west, away from the kingdoms and towards the forests. And then Chanyeol was bundled into his shiniest armor and handed his most impressive sword and sent on his way to the cheers of his people.

The helmet came off the moment he was outside the castle walls. The gauntlets and sabatons came off soon after he passed outside the borders. By the time he reached the edge of the forest, he was sweaty and annoyed, and when he stopped to water his horse, removed about half of the armor, packing all the small bits into his saddlebags and leaving himself in just his cuirass and tassets. It wasn’t as if he was expecting to go into battle right this moment, anyway.

He’d been riding for hours already, and his body was not used to it. Tired, and suspecting his horse felt the same, Chanyeol ate a bit of a lunch and then took a seat under a tree, intending to rest for half an hour at most.

But the day was nice, and the sun was warm, and he was more exhausted than he realized. Within minutes, Chanyeol was asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Chanyeol awoke an indeterminate amount of time later to a giggle like the tinkling of bells. 

Groggily, he blinked himself into reality, and looked around for the source of the sound. It took a moment, but the barest shift of the silk of his fine shirt against his skin made him glance down at his arm.

Standing lightly upon his wrist was what Chanyeol could only assume was an actual _fairy._

On first glance, Chanyeol’s impression was that there was a tiny, gossamer-winged _feminine_ figure alight upon his person. It took him a moment of rather stupidly staring to realize the femininity was an illusion and the little person was, in fact, _male_ , but in his defense, the fairy did have very long, very pale bare legs, curved hips, and, well, all Chanyeol really saw at first was the blue-and-purple _insect wings_ anyway.

“...Hello,” Chanyeol said, sleepy as anything but polite as ever. 

“Hi!” the little creature chirped, his face lighting up in a smile that nearly glowed. Chanyeol blinked at him. “Are you a prince?”

How could something have a voice like a wind chime and still, somehow, sound _masculine_? More importantly, how had he known Chanyeol was a prince?

Might as well ask. “How did you know I was a prince?”

“Well,” the fairy said, “you are obviously on a Quest, and no knight would be so idiotic as to start taking off armor on their way _into_ the Enchanted Forest. You could be a good-hearted woodsman or a baker’s son, I suppose, but I doubt one of those could afford armor embossed with gilded flames.” He flitted - _flitted_ , like a hummingbird - over to Chanyeol’s chest and prodded him in the gilded flames in question.

Still groggy, Chanyeol frowned. “Hey now. My mother wanted me to get the whole thing gilded. This was a compromise.” It was customary to see Princes and Kings and the like in armor so gilded and jewel-encrusted that they shone like beacons on the battlefield - the few who actually fought their own battles, that is. His own armor was much more practical, while still paying homage to his family and status, and he thought it helped make him more accessible to the people. He actually was quite proud of his armor, and what he felt it said about him. (Not that anyone else had ever noticed.)

“Ah,” the fairy said, “your _mother_.” He raised his eyebrows. “You’re what...twenty-six? Twenty-seven?”

Chanyeol frowned. “I am twenty-three, for your information, and _you_ are _rude_ , sir.”

Startled, the fairy burst out laughing. “I like you,” he declared. “You’re cheeky. Not many humans will get cheeky with a fairy.” He landed on Chanyeol’s up-bent knee and sat down. “I’m Baekhyun. What’s your name, cheeky prince?”

“Chanyeol,” Chanyeol told him. “Why won’t humans get cheeky with fairies?”

“Because they’re afraid of getting cursed, obviously,” Baekhyun said. “As well they should be.”

Chanyeol, who, despite this conversation, was still rather sleepish, frowned and asked, “What do you mean, cursed?”

Baekhyun cocked an eyebrow. “You didn’t prepare very well for this adventure, did you?”

Heat rose to Chanyeol’s cheeks. “It was kind of a spur-of-the moment decision,” he mumbled. “So fairies curse people, and wake them from naps, and sass them apparently. Anything else I should know?”

“That entirely depends,” the fairy said. “What sort of Quest are you on?”

“Well. Um. Well, you see, I don’t...exactly...have one.” Baekhyun gave him an incredulous look, so Chanyeol told him all about the other kingdoms with the other princes and knights, and about Yura, and about how not only his _own_ honor was at stake, but the honor of his family, of his _people_.

Baekhyun listened to it all very patiently and didn’t tell Chanyeol he was an idiot, which was unexpected (but appreciated). “Alright,” he said when Chanyeol ran out of words, “that’s all very well and good, but where are you _going_?”

“I don’t actually know,” Chanyeol admitted. “I was just going to head into the forest and…”

“...And what?” Baekhyun asked. “Wait for a quest to fall in your lap? This isn’t a storybook.”

Chanyeol huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. He crossed his legs, too, for good measure, upsetting Baekhyun, who leaped into the air with an affronted peep and hovered accusingly in front of his face.

“Watch it, Princeyeol,” Baekhyun said, “or you’ll find out all about fairy curses.” 

“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol said immediately, totally out of habit. Baekhyun peered at him suspiciously. 

“Are you?” he asked. “Are you really? Because when a human who isn’t scared of fairy curses, it’s usually because they think they’re _better_ than fairies.”

Chanyeol blinked. “That’s silly,” he said. “You can fly.”

Baekhyun paused and regarded him for a long moment.

“Okay, cheeky prince,” he said finally. “You need a quest, I can give you a hint. Head towards the setting sun.”

Chanyeol waited, but there didn’t seem to be more. “Wait. That’s the hint?”

The fairy scowled at him. “You don’t have to follow it.” He made as if to fly away, and on reflex Chanyeol reached out and blocked him. Baekhyun was only about as tall as his hand, wrist to fingertips. 

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to offend. Thank you. I’ll take any help I can get.” Baekhyun huffed, tiny arms crossed over a tiny, silk-clad chest, but when Chanyeol turned his hand to offer the fairy his palm, he did land on it, which Chanyeol hoped meant he wasn’t too angry. 

Chanyeol looked up and noticed that, sure enough, the sun was starting to descend. He’d been asleep for hours. “I guess now is as good a time as any, right?” He looked down at the little creature in his palm and inclined his head. “I appreciate your help, Baekhyun,” he said, a little formally. “Please, visit me any time.”

“Oh, I will,” Baekhyun said immediately. “Advice isn’t free, you know. You owe me a favor.”

That didn’t sound good. “Alright,” Chanyeol agreed, because what else could he do? Sneaky fairy. “Well then, I suppose we shall meet again. Enjoy your afternoon.”

Baekhyun took off with only a quick nod of acknowledgement, flitting away into the trees until he disappeared. Chanyeol watched him go, shaking his head slightly. It was an interesting start to his adventure, if not a terribly thrilling one.

He tracked down his horse, who had gotten bored and wandered away to a nearby clearing to graze, and mounted up. Carefully, he gauged the exact angle at which the sun would set, his extensive astronomy and navigation training coming in handy for once, and set out.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

As it turned out, maintaining his direction once the woods got thicker and the darkness got deeper was nearly impossible. His lantern, suspended on a tall hook attached to his saddle, only lit a few yards around him, and the going was very slow. He decided his path by carefully lining up trees or bushes in the direction he was to travel, then moving to the second one without taking his eyes off it, lest he stray from his path. 

When he noticed a familiar looking bush in his travels - it looked exactly like his aunt’s old, crotchety housecat, it was very distinctive - he started to get a little concerned. When he came upon that bush for the third time, however, he looked around and realized he was going in very literal circles.

“It’s possible,” he said out loud to the forest at large, “that I should have taken better advantage of the daylight.”

The smart thing to do would probably have been to set up camp right there at that angry-cat bush, build a fire, get some sleep and start over again at dawn. And Chanyeol did try, but even after clearing a conveniently grassless patch of nearby ground of debris, digging a fire pit, gathering kindling, and building the fire, he still felt far too awake. It was a beautiful night, and even if the overarching foliage and the light of the fire did blot out the stars, he found himself unwilling to sleep just yet.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t thought to bring with him anything to do. No books, of course, since that would only have weighed him and his horse down unnecessarily, but not even a journal or a sketchbook or _anything_. In the end, he ended up singing an old folk-song under his breath, one his nanny had sung to him when he was small, and daydreaming about the looks on his people’s faces when he rode into his capital with a beautiful princess seated in front of him. 

Now that he was really thinking about this, though, perhaps they should return to _her_ kingdom first. Yes, of course, that was how it would have to go; it wouldn’t do for him to dally when her family was most likely worried sick over her. If his future brother-in-law had been so callous as to take Yura home with him, and not bring her to her family, well, that would have caused all sorts of trouble.

So Chanyeol’s fantasy changed to one of a foreign nation, one who had never heard of the ‘Stay-at-home Prince.’ How they would cheer and gasp and sob with relief as their beloved daughter was returned to them. Presenting her to her father with a bowed head and receiving the same commendations as that other prince had from his own father, while his lovely princess embraced her mother tearfully at the foot of the throne.

Half a kingdom. What would he do with half a kingdom? Would he leave his own kingdom behind? Would he rule one half of his home kingdom, and one half of his betrothed’s? If they were close enough, perhaps he could manage that, though it would be a logistical nightmare. Still, as long as he had ministers he could trust, ministers who could handle the day-to-day in his absence, it was not impossible, or even far outside the realm of reason. His father had always taught him that good, honest, trustworthy ministers were an absolute necessity in running a kingdom anyway.

But perhaps his lovely princess would be an only child, or have only sisters. Without a male heir, perhaps his future father-in-law would name _him_ heir, and he’d get a whole kingdom. What then?

Well, perhaps it would be best, in that case, to turn over his half of his homeland to his future brother-in-law. Yura had always wanted to be Queen, anyway, and not just Princess Royal. Her husband-to-be was not a terribly bright man, but he was a good and fair one, and Yura could easily handle the rest; Chanyeol would be leaving his people in good hands.

Not that he particularly liked the thought of giving up his throne, even for another one.

So caught up in his thoughts was he that Chanyeol did not notice the movement around him until he felt something slide over his foot. His instincts screamed snake and he kicked out, but the thing did not have the weight of a snake, nor did it go flying the way a snake would. Bending down, Chanyeol peered at it in the dim firelight, and realized, after a moment, that it was a thick vine.

Huh. That was strange.

Standing, Chanyeol looked about, and realized, to his increasing alarm, that his previously barren little clearing had been overtaken by woody green vines, creeping up along the edges and closing in on the fire with a speed and agility that was in no way natural. They were moving like they were animal, not plant, too alive, too sentient. The noise of surprise that emitted from Chanyeol’s mouth caught his horse’s attention, and as a vine reached for her hoof, she screamed in fright and reared, yanking out the stake to which he’d tethered her. Chanyeol leaped to his feet and raced to her side, but he wasn’t fast enough; she took off into the night.

“Hellfire,” Chanyeol cursed, kicking at encroaching vines as he made his way back to his packs. Fortunately he had taken all the tack off his horse before tethering her, so he still had the saddlebags with all his armor and supplies; _unfortunately_ it was probably too much for him to carry so he was going to have to leave some of it behind.

So far, though the vines were pushy and invasive (and rather rude, actually), they weren’t threatening, so Chanyeol felt alright taking a moment to get his things together and decide what he was going to leave. In the end, he pulled the rest of his armor on quickly, thankful that he hadn’t yet taken off his cuirass (as that was quite a pain to put on without help), untied the saddlebags, slung them over his shoulders and headed out into the night with his sword in one hand and his lantern in the other, all of his horse’s fine equipment left on the ground to be overtaken by vines and the fire he’d spent an hour building suffocated to a thin trail of smoke behind him.

Unfortunately, he was well away from his campsite before he remembered he was supposed to be going in a specific direction. Swearing in a very un-Princelike manner under his breath, Chanyeol moved until he found a place where the trees opened up enough for him to see some stars and attempted to gauge his direction.

It took a moment, but he was reasonably certain he needed to be going _that_ way. Hefting his saddlebags higher onto his shoulders - if he’d known his horse was going to run off, he would have just brought a pack - he started off.

The going was mostly uneventful at first. The woods were very, very dark, but he still had his lantern, and there was surprisingly not a lot of fauna around. He spotted perhaps one burrow, heard the faint cheep of a sleepy bird or the call of a cricket a handful of times. Otherwise, it was silent, but for the breeze rustling the leaves.

Then, perhaps half an hour later, he stopped and found another place to look up, to get his bearings - and frowned. He was going completely the wrong direction.

Re-setting himself with a grumble, he started again. This time, he didn’t wait so long to check himself - perhaps ten minutes. 

What the - He was literally at _right angles_ from the direction he should be facing. That was just not possible.

Until this point, Chanyeol had not been afraid. Not when he woke up with a fairy in his face, not when he realized he was going in circles the first time, not when his campsite was overrun by sentient vines and his horse ran off. But now he was starting to think the forest _itself_ was messing with him, and it was getting under his skin. The dark shadows of the trees seemed to move in the corners of his vision, making him jumpy, his armored hand closing around the hilt of his sword. (As if a sword was going to help him against trees.)

(Why was he getting scared of _trees_?)

(This whole thing was just ridiculous.)

Rustling behind him had Chanyeol whipping around, drawing his sword in the same movement and brandishing it at the darkness. There was nothing behind him (except _trees_ ), but he walked backwards for a few steps, just to be certain.

Of course, he ran right into a tree.

Annoyed, Chanyeol pulled away - or tried to. It felt like his armor was caught on something. 

“Gods-blasted _forests_ -” he swore, yanking himself away. He nearly choked as his body moved but his cuirass didn’t, causing him to lose his balance and stumble back against the bark.

Twisting to try and see what the issue was, Chanyeol realized quite abruptly that there were vines wrapping around his waist, his knees, reaching for his shoulders and elbows and creeping towards his neck.

Trained reflexes and instinctive panic had him acting before the threat even completely registered. He hacked clumsily at the vines around his body, desperation giving him the strength to cut himself free despite the awkward angle and the real possibility of missing and injuring himself. Finally, he was freed, and Chanyeol pulled away, his cuirass separating from the tree.

He only made it two steps before something - given his evening so far, probably a vine - snaked around his ankle. Chanyeol toppled like an oak felled by a woodsman, hitting the ground with a hard _whumph_ that knocked all air from his lungs. It stunned him, and he didn’t react quickly enough, and the next thing he knew he was pressed to the ground, overtaken by creeping vines and gnarled roots that broke up through the ground to envelop him. His sword was tugged from his hand and pressure pushed his face into the dirt until he couldn’t _breathe_ and his kicking and flailing did him no good, within moments he was totally immobilized.

His nose and mouth filled with soil, Chanyeol blacked out.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

This time, Chanyeol came to, not to the gentle sound of tinkling fairy laughter, but with a rush of adrenaline and a gasp, still fighting against strangling vines that were - he quickly realized - no longer there.

His first instinct was, _was that a dream?_ But there was a soreness in his body, a horrible gritty feeling in his mouth, that hinted it hadn’t been. So how had he gotten away?

Sitting up and looking around, Chanyeol became aware that he was no longer in the same densely-packed section of woods in which he’d been felled by foliage. Instead, he was in a small clearing, laid out on a mossy rock next to a clear, still pool. He could not see the sun for the crowns of the massive trees around him, but the amount of light told him it was morning, perhaps well after sunrise.

He also became aware that he was no longer in his armor, but only the soft, tanned leather leggings and loose red cambric shirt which he had been wearing under his plate and gambeson. That pointed to someone rescuing him - and then stripping him of his armor, for some unknown reason. Was it so damaged by the pressure that it was no longer worth wearing? Or had it been stolen? Who would rescue someone just to rob them blind?

“You’re awake.”

The voice was soft, medium-toned, probably male, and seemed to come from nowhere. Chanyeol scrambled to his feet - ow ow _ow_ everything _hurt_ \- and spun in a circle looking for the source of the voice, his hand going instinctively to a sword that was no longer there.

“Who’s there?” he called, his throat hoarse from disuse (and dirt) but his voice steady.

A noise behind him had him turning, flashing back for a moment to the night before when the same action ended with him unconscious, but this time, there was something there.

A horse.

No, wait. Not a horse.

A _unicorn_.

Chanyeol stared.

“You’re a unicorn,” he said, rather dumbly.

The unicorn fixed him with a look from one huge, brown eye. “You are a prince,” the unicorn said in return. Or at least, Chanyeol thought it must be the unicorn’s voice, even though it’s mouth didn’t move. “You’re a prince, and you’re awake. Thats two for me, and only one for you. Your turn.”

Um. What? “You’re a unicorn,” Chanyeol repeated, feeling very much like he was missing something, “and...you rescued me?”

The unicorn’s face did not change, but Chanyeol had the strangest feeling it smiled at him. “Very good, prince,” it - he? - said. 

“Did you take my armor off me, too?” Chanyeol asked, before the unicorn could keep playing whatever odd guessing game he was after. 

“I did,” the unicorn said, stepping forward. He walked past Chanyeol to drink from the pool, calm as you please, and Chanyeol was surprised to see as he passed that he was only as tall as Chanyeol himself, nowhere near as big as a full-sized horse. He was, however, very beautiful, and fascinating to watch.

“Um,” Chanyeol said, stepping to the side a little bit to let the beast pass, “thank you, for rescuing me.”

“You’re welcome,” the unicorn replied, without lifting his head from the water. Chanyeol realized, at that point, that the voice was in his mind, not his ears. “I didn’t really have much of a choice, but you’re welcome anyway.”

Chanyeol frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I was called to help you,” the unicorn explained, lifting its head and shaking out its luxurious mane. “It woke me and pulled me from my grotto, led me to your side.”

Chanyeol frowned harder. “I thought unicorns were only drawn to virgin maidens,” he said.

The unicorn gave him a look (which was an odd thing to witness.) “The ‘maiden’ part is not actually necessary.”

What...Oh. Chanyeol immediately turned red. He opened his mouth to defend himself - _I am a very busy prince with many important duties, I don’t have time for dalliances_ \- but then realized he was defending his virginity to a unicorn and shut up. Instead, he asked, “Why did you remove my armor?”

“You were too heavy to carry with it on,” the unicorn said.

“Um, forgive me for asking,” Chanyeol said, his curiosity getting the better of him, “but...how? I have enough trouble with it, and I have thumbs.”

The unicorn gave him another one of those unsettling not-smiles, and then began to shift, to _change_ , until it wasn’t a mythical beast standing before him, it was a man. A young, beautiful man with kind, deep brown eyes, dressed all in white with light brown hair falling over one side of his face, as thick and wavy as his mane had been. He was shorter than Chanyeol, but broad-shouldered, and his smile looked exactly the way the unicorn’s smile had felt.

The man spread his hands, palms up. “All those human virgins would not do me very much good if that was my only form, would they?” he pointed out. His voice was exactly the same, except _real_ , and it was so disconcerting that it took Chanyeol much longer than it should have for what he had actually _said_ to sink in.

“Oh,” he exclaimed in surprise. “You... _Oh._ ” He took a step back.

The unicorn-man’s smile widened, displaying a deep dimple in one cheek. “Don’t fret, virgin prince,” he said lightly. “I don’t take what isn’t offered. But many do offer - particularly if I have saved their lives.” He gave Chanyeol a pointed, up-and-down look that had him flushing from his ears down to his navel.

“I. Um. Not that you’re not...but. No thanks?” he squeaked. “I’d be...I’d be happy to thank you another way.”

A careless shrug. That smile hadn’t faded yet, and it was starting to cause Chanyeol distress. “That may be acceptable,” he said. “What is your name, virgin prince?”

“Chanyeol,” Chanyeol replied, and bowed, for good measure. “May I ask yours?”

“So polite,” the unicorn observed, and Chanyeol got the impression he was being teased. “I am Yixing. How do you suggest you thank me, Prince Chanyeol?”

Chanyeol blinked. “I. Um.” He cleared his throat. “I can…”

Delicate brows raised. “Don’t strain yourself, handsome.”

Flushing, Chanyeol raised his hands defensively. “Look, I’m a _prince_. I have lots of talents, I’m just not sure any of them are going to be of use to a _unicorn_. Do you need any monsters killed or damsels rescued? Or, I don’t know, economic problems solved?”

Yixing’s smile made Chanyeol feel rather like a small, stupid child. “Tell you what,” he murmured. “How about a kiss?”

Chanyeol took another step back. “But…”

“Just one, my Prince. I will be gentle.” Yixing winked at him.

“I’m not sure that’s a good...My mouth is still full of dirt,” Chanyeol said desperately. 

Yixing stepped forward - he moved kind of like a horse, that was _strange_ \- and raised a hand to cup Chanyeol’s jawline. “I can remedy that,” he said, and as his fingers trailed delicately down Chanyeol’s skin, Chanyeol felt the grittiness in his throat melt away as if it was never there. And then, Yixing leaned up, and Chanyeol instinctively closed his eyes, and their lips met.

Chanyeol wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but the kiss was chaste, if firm, and Yixing’s tiny sigh was...sweet. His palm slid more fully against the side of Chanyeol’s face, and suddenly, Chanyeol’s mind was filled with images, of mountains and fire and green-black scales, of forests and frying pans and the most beautiful eyes he’d ever known.

Gasping, he pulled away.

“I thought so,” Yixing said smugly, running a thumb over his wetted lips. “My little virgin Prince has a destiny after all.”

Chanyeol stared at him, dumbfounded. “What...what did I just see?”

“Reflections,” Yixing said. “It’s too bad, really. You are very, very handsome, and I would very much like to keep you.” His hand trailed down Chanyeol’s neck, shoulder, arm. “But it is not to be. You are meant for a different fate.” He picked up Chanyeol’s hand and turned it over, tracing over the lines like a fortune teller.

Chanyeol’s heart beat like a drum. “You mean there’s actually a quest out there for me?”

“There’s a quest for everyone,” the unicorn murmured, “if they’re willing to go out and find it.” He let Chanyeol’s hand drop. “Give me a real kiss, Prince,” he challenged, “and I’ll tell you how to get there.”

“Um...okay.” Was this a trick? Oh well, it wasn’t as if a single _kiss_ was too much to ask. Chanyeol leaned down.

Yixing’s lips landed on his with much more force this time, tongue pushing past, warm and invasive and really very inappropriate. And this time there were no visions - but Chanyeol did see a flash of those eyes again, wide and dark and heavily-lashed. Was that his bride-to-be?

She was...beautiful. 

Wow.

Yixing broke the kiss, and Chanyeol stared down at him dumbly, not seeing the unicorn-man but rather those eyes. Until this point the damsel he planned to rescue was a nebulous, featureless form, a means to an end; but now she had features (okay, one feature, one _gorgeous_ feature) and suddenly, it was personal, it was _real_. There was a young woman out there, a princess maybe (or maybe not, he didn’t actually know) who was in danger, who needed him, who was his _destiny_.

It was exciting, it was terrifying...it was sobering.

“Come back, handsome Prince,” Yixing said softly, and Chanyeol blinked back into reality. “Are you ready to begin your quest?”

Chanyeol took a deep breath. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m ready. What should I do?”

His red lips curling into a mysterious smile, Yixing turned and pointed. “That trail,” he said. “Follow it until you reach the river. Your guides will be there.” His smile deepened until it crinkled the corners of his eyes. “They may not know that’s what they are, but they will lead you where you need to be.”

“O-Okay,” Chanyeol said. “My armor? My sword? All my supplies?”

“Lost, I’m afraid,” Yixing said. “It was the choice of leave them behind for the forest to take, or leave you behind. Don’t fret - you will find what you need.”

Did he have any choice but to trust that? Not really. “Thank you, Yixing,” he said. “I regret I am not able to truly repay you for what you’ve done for me.”

“It’s enough for now,” Yixing said. “The rest of your debt, I may call upon from you at another date. Or perhaps I will call upon your firstborn in your stead, we shall see.”

His _firstborn_. Chanyeol swallowed hard, the reality of his quest weighing upon him. (His future wife, his future child - his _destiny_.) “If that is what must be,” he said weakly. “Thank you.” He bowed again, and with renewed purpose exited the glade and started along the trail Yixing had indicated.

It wasn’t until he was outside the glen that he realized his body was no longer sore, no longer bruised and battered. He swallowed hard, one hand reaching up to touch his own lips, and turned to go back and thank Yixing again.

There was nothing but path behind him. The glade was gone, as if it had never existed. 

Unsettled, but determined, Chanyeol whispered his thanks to the air and turned to face his destiny.


	3. Chapter 3

On the plus side, having no armor, no weapons, no heavy bags of provisions to carry meant that walking through the woods was nearly as pleasant and casual as if he was walking through the castle gardens on a lovely spring day.

On the negative side, though, it meant Chanyeol had no food, no water, no tools and nothing with which to protect himself.

Being well-used to hunting and camping trips - with his father, with the army, with the palace huntsmen - Chanyeol’s first order of business upon leaving Yixing’s glen was to find a thick, fairly straight branch and strip off all of the smaller branches and twigs to make a walking stick. It gave him something to poke at suspicious patches of ground and shifty-looking foliage, anyway; after his recent experiences Chanyeol knew better than to take any part of this forest at face value.

There was little in the way of wildlife, still, which Chanyeol thought was odd. He could hear birds, hear the rustling of small creatures, and the trail which he was following was very clearly a deer trail, marked with hoofprints and the occasional clump of hair caught on a thorny branch, but he did not see one living creature that was not a plant or an insect. It was, to be honest, a bit unsettling.

By midday - or what he thought was probably around midday, anyway, the treetops were still too thick to get more than an occasional glimpse of the sun - Chanyeol was sweating, tired, hungry, and absolutely _dying_ of thirst. So when he heard the faint rush of water in the distance, he found himself breaking into a jog.

Sure enough, there was the river Yixing had spoken of, surprisingly wide and fast-moving for these woods, edged with slippery, moss-covered rocks and small beaches that were more mud than sand. But the water looked clean and inviting, glinting in the rays of sunlight that managed to break through the canopy, and Chanyeol climbed out onto the largest, flattest rock he saw and cupped water in his palms. It tasted as good as it looked, cool and clear, and he drank as much as he could manage with only his hands.

His thirst slaked, Chanyeol sat down on the rock, letting the edges of the river lap at the toes of his boots. Now what? Yixing had said that his guides - plural, he’d specifically said _they_ \- would find him where the deer trail met the river. Should he wait?

Probably. Yixing’s advice was the only lead he had, and with his new realization that his damsel was not only real, but waiting for him _right now_ , Chanyeol was not about to take any chances. He was, however, _awfully_ hungry, so he didn’t think it would hurt too much to forage a little - as long as he didn’t go very far.

With that in mind, Chanyeol began to poke about his surroundings, looking for edible plants, for nuts or berries or tubers or _something_ to put in his stomach. He did manage to find some dandelions, and munched on those greens while he was looking. Without any sort of sauce or dressing they were bitter and a little bit terrible, but they were edible, so it was better than nothing.

He was just weighing the consequences of expanding his search when a terrified cry shattered the quietude.

_“Help! Gods, someone help, please!!”_

It was coming from further downstream. Thoughts of food, and of waiting, forgotten, Chanyeol sprinted down the riverbed, using his walking stick to catch himself whenever a slippery rock threatened his stability.

He’d gone perhaps a quarter of a mile down the stream when he saw a figure caught in the rapids ahead, splashing and struggling against the current. Putting on an extra burst of speed, Chanyeol raced towards the figure, glancing about for any likely way of getting close enough to reach out his stick for them to grab. There was a rather large boulder up there that stuck out a ways; if only he could get to it fast enough…

And then, Chanyeol realized that the flailing figure was not _human_. It was a _stag_ , a terrified, gangly young stag who was perhaps moments away from drowning or being crushed against the rocks, and he instantly revised his plan. A stag was not going to be able to grab a stick.

Chanyeol dropped the stick on the riverbed and dove into the water.

It was _freezing_ , and rushing very quickly, but Chanyeol was a powerful swimmer, and tall enough that he could kick off the rocks at the bottom of the river when the current threatened to tug him under. He fought his way across the current to the stag, adrenaline and determination lending him strength and speed.

“Help me help me _help me!_ ”

That panicked voice was not the same voice he had heard before - but it definitely came from the stag. Chanyeol saw its mouth move and everything.

He didn’t have time to question it.

It took a moment - and some calming words yelled out in an unfortunately not-particularly-calm voice - for Chanyeol to get his arms around the stag’s ribs, pulling it back so that much of its weight rested in Chanyeol’s arms and its head was out of the water, long, graceful neck laid over Chanyeol’s shoulder so his short antlers were back behind Chanyeol’s ear.

“Kick!” he commanded roughly, spluttering as the stag’s weight threatened his buoyancy. “I’ve got you, I’m here to help, but you have to _kick_!”

“HELP!!” the stag screamed, louder now that its head was held out of the water. 

“ _KICK!!_ ” Chanyeol roared back, and perhaps it was the increased volume, but he finally got through, and the stag started to kick all four legs wildly. With Chanyeol holding him such that its legs were held out in front of them, it produced just enough force that Chanyeol was able to drag them both back to shore, across the current at an angle. He hit some rocks, stumbling back and up onto them as they reached the shallows, and as soon as the water was shallow enough that he could stand steadily on both feet, he stopped moving backward. The river was still deep enough that most of the stag’s weight was held up by the water, but if he went any further he’d be bearing too much of it and his arms would give out.

“Okay, you can stop, you can stop,” he said, aiming for a calming tone even though he was breathless and freezing and shaking with the adrenaline rush. The stag froze, and Chanyeol didn’t need to look back over his shoulder at the stag’s face to know it was terrified. “I’m going to lower you, but I’ll still be here to help keep your head up, okay? You need to swim to shore. Can you do that?”

“Uh. Uh. I. No. Yes?”

Poor thing. “I need you to try,” Chanyeol said. “I’ll help any way I can. You can do it.”

“Um. Okay. I. Okay.” The stag shifted in his arms, and Chanyeol began lowering it forward. “No!” it screamed, jerking in fright. “Nonono!”

Swearing under his breath, Chanyeol heaved himself back up straight, again bearing much of the stag’s considerable weight, his arms and back and shoulders burning under the strain. “Look, if you don’t let me put you down, I’m going to drop you. You’re too heavy. I’ll be right here, okay? You’ll be _fine_.”

Another voice, this one from the riverbank - the same voice Chanyeol had first heard calling for help. “Fucking _listen to him,_ Lu!”

“Okay,” the stag said, sounding very, very scared. “Okay. I can do this. I can _do_ this.”

Chanyeol ignored the little voice in the back of his head, the one going _this is the absolute fucking weirdest thing that has ever happened to you, and you’ve encountered a fairy AND a unicorn in the last twenty-four hours alone._ He did not have time to contemplate the total insanity that had become his life right now. “Alright, here we go,” he said, and started to bend forward, tipping the stag back onto its feet.

To its - to _his_ \- credit, the stag did manage not to panic this time, and Chanyeol got him upright and submerged up to his flanks. He could feel that the stag was not tall enough to touch the rocky riverbed, so he kept his arms wrapped securely around the animal’s ribs, helping to keep him afloat.

“Alright,” he said. “Progress. Now swim. I’m right here.”

“Okay,” the stag said again, his freakishly human voice shaky and terrified. But he did start to kick, an awkward little doggy paddle, and Chanyeol walked beside him, each step carefully felt out on the uneven, slick rocks and pressed hard against the still-swift current.

Chanyeol let out a sigh of relief when the stag touched bottom, but kept his arms around him for balance, because he had thin, gangly legs and his cloven hooves provided no traction on the mossy rocks. Eventually, though, they made it all the way out of the water, and the stag managed a total of seven shaky steps forward before it collapsed in a heap on the riverbank, soaked and shivering.

“That was terrible,” the stag said, laying its head down in the mud in total exhaustion. “ _Terrible._ ”

“You absolute _idiot_ ,” the second voice said, and Chanyeol turned towards it to see - a rabbit. No, not a rabbit, a _hare_ , chubby-cheeked but long-legged, bounding towards the stag. The hare braced its little front paws on the stag’s flank and sniffed him thoroughly, clearly checking for injury. “You are so incredibly lucky this man was near enough to save your idiot venison hide. What were you _thinking_?”

A talking hare.

Well alright then. It wasn’t any weirder than a unicorn or a talking stag, anyway.

Freezing, sopping, and feeling a bit knock-kneed himself, Chanyeol followed the stag’s example and collapsed into the mud. “You’re welcome,” he muttered, stripping off his waterlogged shirt and leaning away from where he was sitting to wring it out. “How the heck did he end up in the water in the first place?”

The hare snorted indelicately. “Sir Antlers Von MushForBrains here decided it was a _lovely_ day for frolicking by the water and frolicked himself right off a rock.”

It was very, very odd to see an animal pout without having lips, but that’s precisely what the stag was doing. “It _is_ a nice day,” he grumbled. “And you were frolicking too.”

“ _I have traction,_ ” the hare cried. “Idiot. Moron. Why do I bother with you.” As he said it, the hare was hopping over to the stag’s head, leaning up to clean the water off the stag’s face with a delicate, careful tongue, a gentleness that totally belied his annoyed tone. Chanyeol’s heart gave a funny little swoop in his chest.

“Um,” he said, suddenly feeling like he was intruding. “Forgive me, but...I have not met a talking stag before. Or hare, for that matter. How did you - ” No, Chanyeol, manners. Manners. “May I ask your names?”

The hare looked back at him for the first time, and Chanyeol’s breath caught. His eyes were far, far too intelligent, too _human_. “I’m Minseok,” he said. Watching a _hare_ pronounce an ‘m’ was one of the more unsettling things Chanyeol had ever seen. “This idiot is Lu Han.”

Lu Han glanced his way without moving his head. His eyes, unlike Minseok’s, were totally animal, if a bit too intelligent. “What’s your name, hero man?” he asked, sounding tired.

“I’m Chanyeol,” Chanyeol replied, feeling an odd sense of deja vu. He hadn’t expected to spend so much of his quest introducing himself.

“What are you doing so deep in the forest?” Minseok asked, hopping over to Chanyeol to inspect him as well. Chanyeol let him, resisting the urge to pick the little creature up and snuggle him. He was quite a cuddly-looking little fuzzball. “We almost never get humans this far in.”

Chanyeol sighed, wondering if they would be offended if he stripped off his leggings. Wet leather was terribly uncomfortable. He settled for unlacing his boots. “I’m on a Quest,” he said, pulling open the rows and rows of soaked lacing. The biggest issue with these boots was how long it took to get them on and off - curse his ridiculously long legs. “I was told to come to this river to find my guides.”

Wait.

Chanyeol stopped with his boot halfway off, staring. _Your guides will be there. They may not know that’s what they are, but they will lead you where you need to be._

Oh.

_Oh._

“What sort of guides?” Lu Han asked, curiosity coloring his exhaustion.

“Um.” Shit, _really_? A talking hare and stag? “I didn’t get that much. Just that there would be more than one, and they would be here, and they would lead me where I need to go.” Lu Han’s literal doe-eyes didn’t seem to react his pointed tone, but Minseok definitely did, his little head whipping around to stare at Chanyeol.

“You have _got_ to be kidding me,” Minseok said, incredulous.

Chanyeol shrugged. “I saved his life. Doesn’t that mean he owes me a debt? That seems to be how it works around here.”

Minseok made a distressed noise, somewhere between a rabbit’s tiny wail of dismay and a long-suffering groan that was much more human. Lu Han’s gaze shifted to him. “He’s not wrong, Min. He completely saved my life. I was very definitely going to drown. My life was flashing before my eyes.”

“ _You’re barely two years old_. All you’ve done your entire life is eat and frolic.”

“There was an awful lot of frolicking,” Lu Han admitted, his big brown eyes fluttering shut. “Still. I’m glad I’m not dead. Thank you, Human Chanyeol.” Watching a deer pronounce a “ch” was almost as unsettling as watching a hare pronounce an “m”.

“You’re welcome,” Chanyeol said again. “Does this mean you two will be my guides?”

“Yes,” Lu Han said, as Minseok said, “No.”

Chanyeol raised an eyebrow as the two animals started to bicker. They didn’t come to an immediate conclusion, so he ended up standing and stripping off his leggings - to hell with propriety, he was _soaked_ \- and clad in only his cotton breechcloth went over to a nearby tree to hang his shirt and leggings and stockings to dry. He spared but one wistful thought for the multiple changes of warm dry clothes he’d had in his saddlebags. (Okay, maybe more than one.)

Soaked though his breechcloth already was, Chanyeol was not willing to sit down in the mud in it, so he remained standing, bare toes squishing in the riverbank, and waited for the two animals to finish arguing. In the end, Lu Han managed to convince Minseok that they did indeed owe Chanyeol a debt, and Minseok huffed and hopped over to Chanyeol, stretching up on his hind legs with one paw braced on Chanyeol’s shin to look up into his face.

“Alright, Chanyeol,” Minseok said. “We’ll be your guides. Where do you need to go?”

Great. If only he _knew_.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Since Chanyeol was tired, and both he and Lu Han were soaked, and all three of them were hungry, they decided to move away from the river a bit and make a camp for the evening. Minseok led them to the best place, a little clearing bisected by the old, dried-out trunk of a felled tree, which he swore was in no way inhabited by sentient plants. (“Those are mostly along the outskirts of the forest,” he said. “They don’t like coming this far in, there isn’t enough to hunt.”) Chanyeol made them a fire and hung his clothes near it to dry, and they left Lu Han curled up in front of it to warm up while Minseok took Chanyeol out to forage.

It was interesting - and oddly freeing, really - to be out in nature like this, barely clothed with mud streaked up to his knees and a rough-made staff in his hand. Very different from how he’d set out, only a little over thirty hours ago. (Had he really only been gone a day and a half? It felt like a _lifetime_.)

Minseok, fortunately, was intimately familiar with this area, and knew exactly where the fruit trees and patches of root vegetables grew, knew not only which berries weren’t poisonous but also which greens were sweetest, which fruits were ripest, which mushrooms wouldn’t cause Chanyeol to hallucinate. He was also, surprisingly, a very good travelling companion, talkative and shockingly sarcastic for a rodent.

Arms full of vegetables and munching on a wild carrot, Chanyeol followed Minseok back to the camp. “If I may ask,” he asked around his mouthful, “how did your ability to talk come about? Is that just a product of living in this forest?”

Minseok snorted, picking his way over rocks and under branches. “I was born with it,” he said, “same as you. _Exactly_ the same as you. I’m human.” He stopped, and threw a very long-suffering look over his shoulder, ears twitching. “Or I was human, until about two years ago.”

“Oh,” Chanyeol said, feeling terrible for bringing it up. “That’s...I’m sorry?”

“It’s not so bad,” Minseok said with a shrug. (Seeing a hare _shrug_ was nearly as odd as seeing one speak.) 

“How did it happen?”

“Long story. Suffice to say, it doesn’t pay to insult a fairy.” Chanyeol blinked in surprise. “Anyway, this particular fairy, he didn’t have great aim, and Lu got caught in the crossfire. He was just a fawn at the time, but suddenly, he could speak. Poor kid was terrified. None of his herd could understand him, and it was sort of my fault he ended up that way, so I stuck with him. Just so he wouldn’t be alone, you know.” Minseok shrugged again and turned to keep moving. “I think growing up with me made him a little bit smarter than your average young buck, but he’s still a deer you know? He’s kind of an airhead.”

“You seem like you’re close,” Chanyeol observed quietly.

“Out of necessity, yeah. I mean. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a great kid, he’s absolutely the sweetest and most innocent thing, but he’s. Just. I miss talking to actual _humans_.”

Chanyeol could imagine. 

Lu Han was asleep by the time they returned, so Chanyeol and Minseok scarfed down their portions of their wilderness salad. Leaving the leafiest bits for Lu Han, they went back down to the river, and Minseok kept Chanyeol talking as he sharpened his walking stick against a rough rock and attempted spearfishing. It took a while, but Chanyeol did eventually catch himself a bass, maybe as long as his hand. It was all he needed for the moment, though, so they headed back and Chanyeol roasted it whole over the fire, having no knife with which to gut or clean it. He instead had to pick it apart with his teeth, carefully spitting out scales and bones and separating the flesh from the inner organs with his fingers, and the fish was plain and a little dried-out but it was _meat_ and after the day he’d had Chanyeol did not care one little bit that it wasn’t good-tasting.

“I don’t suppose either of you know where I could find a knife,” Chanyeol grumbled, pulling yet another bone from his teeth. Lu Han and Minseok exchanged a look, and Chanyeol sat up a little straighter. “What?” he asked.

“Well,” Lu Han said, “there’s a place, out on the western edge of the forest, where you might be able to find one,” he said slowly. “It’s perhaps...a day’s travel?”

“No, Lu,” Minseok said, his little brown eyes wide.

“He needs a guide,” Lu Han argued. “We promised we’d take him. He _saved me_ , Min.”

“I’ll take him. It’s too dangerous for you.”

“I am _at least_ twice your size,” Lu Han said, annoyed. Chanyeol blinked, wondering if he was purposely underestimating for effect, or if he just didn’t have that great a grasp of math. “And I have _antlers_.”

“You just got your antlers a few months ago. And you _regularly_ trip over your own feet,” Minseok snapped back, but Chanyeol could hear the real fear behind his tone.

“If you’re that worried,” Chanyeol said, his brow furrowing, “you don’t have to take me the whole way. Just get me as close as you can and direct me the rest of the way.”

Minseok shook his head. “Won’t work. This is the Enchanted Forest, you won’t make it to the other side if you don’t know the way. The forest has tricks of its own.” He took a deep breath, his narrow little ribs heaving in resignation. “We’ll take you. Not tonight - in the morning. No one should travel in this forest at night, let alone that close to the edge.” He moved over to Lu Han’s side, curling up against the stag’s side with his back to Chanyeol as if to say _this conversation is over_.

“Thank you,” Chanyeol murmured, not sure what else to say. Lu Han gave him the cervid impression of a smile, nothing but eyes, and dropped his head, curling his neck around Minseok’s fuzzy back.

The fire was warm, but the night was cold and the ground was hard, and Chanyeol was quite naked. It took him quite a while to fall asleep.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

His dreams were filled with fire, with lusciously curved lips and beautiful eyes that were becoming familiar.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

“Chanyeol!”

Chanyeol startled awake, staring up wide-eyed at the fuzzy brown face in his vision. It took him a moment to remember the last two days’ adventures and why there was a hare shaking his cheek with tiny paws and calling his name in a human voice.

“I’m up,” Chanyeol mumbled automatically. “I’m awake.”

“Good,” Minseok said. “You were making noises in your sleep. Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Just dreams.” Chanyeol sat up, pushing the heels of his hands against his eyes and trying to hang onto the remnants of his dream as it slipped away. All he could remember was the eyes, his future betrothed’s _incredible_ eyes. He knew there was more, and he was almost certain it was important, but he just...couldn’t remember.

One meal of partially wilted greens and the last bit of roasted fish, a semblance of a bath in the river’s edge, and Chanyeol pulled his now-dry clothes back on. Then, they were off.

As Lu Han had guessed, the journey took most of the day. Time passed more quickly with company, though, and both Minseok and Lu Han seemed to be in good spirits. Lu Han asked him dozens of questions about being human, questions Chanyeol was sure he’d probably asked Minseok before, but Chanyeol answered them all as best he could. It was interesting, getting an outsider’s perspective on humankind, and Chanyeol learned a few things himself.

As the sun passed its zenith and the forest became less dense, though, the two animals quieted, becoming more and more wary. Chanyeol started to notice sections of forest that were yellowed and dry, and as they moved forward, areas that were _blackened_ , as if burned.

“Here,” Minseok said suddenly. “This is the hard part. Follow me exactly, alright?” He began weaving his way up a rocky incline, going slow enough that Chanyeol and Lu Han could follow in his wake.

Chanyeol found out why Minseok was being so adamant when he let his steps stray a little too far to the left and the ground completely gave out from under him, like there was a hidden sinkhole in the mountain. Only because Lu Han was behind him and managed to snag Chanyeol’s shirt in his teeth did Chanyeol have enough time to scramble back onto solid ground; without that extra second of stability he would have been lost.

“Thanks,” Chanyeol said breathlessly. 

Lu Han spit out fibers of Chanyeol’s shirt, which had torn in his teeth. “You’re welcome.”

“What part of _follow me exactly_ was hard to understand?” Minseok asked in exasperation from up ahead.

“Forgive me, Your Rabbitness,” Chanyeol shot back. “My feet are a _little_ bit bigger than yours.”

“Go piss off a fairy, that’ll fix that problem quick,” Minseok grumbled, and Chanyeol chuckled, despite his heart still pounding in his ribs from his near-miss. “Come on, just a bit farther.”

‘A bit farther,’ as it turned out, was a small cave opening halfway up the mountain, barely large enough for Lu Han to pass through. Chanyeol himself had to duck quite a ways, and inside the cave became very dark very quickly.

“Hey, wait,” he said, stopping Lu Han with a hand on his flank. “You two might be able to see in that but I can’t. I need to make a torch.”

“How about this?” Minseok’s voice floated from further in the cave, and Chanyeol heard the sound of metal scraping on rock. Frowning, he made his way down the sloped cave floor until he could make out a little fuzzy shape with eyes that reflected oddly in the dim light, next to a very obviously man-made object. 

Chanyeol bent down and ran his hands over it, feeling smooth metal and cold glass. A lantern. Was there still a wick inside?

There _was_. With the hare’s help, Chanyeol found some fuel and tinder and started a little fire, just enough to light the lamp before he stomped it out. Raising the lantern over his head, Chanyeol looked around. 

The inside of the cavern was an incline even steeper than the outside, but angled the other way; a shale wall coated in dirt and rocks and debris. Raising the lantern as high as he could reach, Chanyeol peered down the climb and spotted a flicker of reflection at the bottom.

“Is that...water?”

“It’s an underground river,” Minseok said, starting to pick his way down the incline. Even as sure-footed as the little animal was, he skidded a few inches as pebbles came loose under his feet. Chanyeol looked back at Lu Han, who was eyeing the incline with extreme trepidation.

“Lu,” he said softly, “you can wait here.”

Doe-eyes looked up at him. “But you need a guide,” Lu Han said. “You saved my life. I can’t just quit.” He took a step forward, feeling his way head-first down the incline, and Chanyeol winced as pebbles and rocks came loose around his hooves and tumbled down the hill. 

“I absolve you from your debt,” he said hurriedly, reaching out to stop Lu Han before he tumbled like those rocks and snapped all four of his skinny legs. 

A blink. “Really?”

“Honestly and truly,” Chanyeol promised. “I’ve gotten kind of fond of you and would rather not see you kill yourself for no reason. This cave shows no signs of habitation - wait here for us to return, okay?”

Lu Han looked over Chanyeol’s shoulder. “Min? Should I do that?”

Minseok, as it turned out, was already halfway down the climb. He popped up on his hind legs to look up at them. “Probably,” he agreed. “This is a nasty hill, and you’re a klutz.” One of his hind legs slipped out from under him, as if to illustrate his point; he caught himself on his front paws and glared at the rocks, nose twitching. “I’m honestly not too sure how the _human’s_ going to do.”

“Reassuring,” Chanyeol mumbled. He reached out and rubbed Lu Han’s head, between his modest antlers. Lu Han pushed into his touch. “We’ll be back, okay Lu? Stay out of trouble.”

As Minseok had warned, the climb down the hill was steep and treacherous, with the very ground seeming to shift out from underneath him. Chanyeol slipped several times, but fortunately only fell back onto his butt and skidded a few feet; he didn’t pitch forward and tumble ass-over-teakettle down the hill. He even managed to keep the glass lantern from dropping and breaking, which was almost a miracle. 

The hare was waiting when he reached the bottom, furiously cleaning grit and gravel out of his toe pads. “That was a bit awful,” Chanyeol proclaimed, following his example and brushing himself off. He held the lantern up and looked around. They were indeed at the edge of an underground stream, the cavern here as large as the biggest ballroom in his palace back home, with a ceiling twice as high.

“Just a bit,” Minseok grumbled. “Okay, come on. Let’s get moving.”

They started upstream, following the riverbank. Without any sunlight there was no moss to make these rocks slippery, but Chanyeol chose his steps carefully anyway, wary of obstacles in the darkness.

They’d been traveling for probably about a quarter of an hour in relative silence when Chanyeol kicked something that _clanged_. He held up his lantern to see what he’d kicked.

It was a helmet.

Upon closer inspection, Chanyeol realized it was a helmet with dried-out, decapitated skull still inside.

“Shit,” he swore in surprise, dropping it like it burned him. It clattered to the ground and rolled, coming to a stop resting against something...equally dead.

Chanyeol raised his lantern.

Ahead of him was a pile of dully glinting metal, of dried and desiccated bodies both human and animal. They were at a bend in the underground river, and it seemed that something about the way the current was rushing around the corner deposited anything in the river right here, washing it ashore.

“Minseok?” Chanyeol called. The hare looked back at him. “Is this what you were talking about?”

Pulling himself up on his hind legs, Minseok craned his neck forward to see. “Oh. Yes. This is what I meant.”

Chanyeol took a deep breath. It made sense; after all, it wasn’t like these poor sods would need their armor or tools anymore. Steeling himself, he stepped closer to the pile and used his walking stick to start sifting through it. Most of the bodies were old - some _quite_ old, old enough to be mostly skeleton. Some, though, particularly those closest to the shore, were recent enough to smell horrendous.

“Where do they all come from?” Chanyeol asked, crouching down to check the condition of a knife that tumbled out of the pile. It needed some honing, but it was mostly functional, only a tiny bit rusted, unlike the majority of the armor and weapons there. Chanyeol set it aside for the moment.

“We don’t really know for sure,” Minseok said, hanging back away from the gruesome stack. “Some of the other inhabitants of the forest say that there’s a great monster who lives on the other side of the mountain, far to the west. A chimera, or a giant, or perhaps a dragon.”

Spotting something that shone brighter than the rest in the light of the lantern, Chanyeol leaned down and gingerly dug for the source. As he did, his fingers brushed a shield, its painted face twisted and blackened, and sudden brightness flashed behind his eyes.

_Greenish-black scales - gouts of fire - the beat of massive wings blowing him back_

Yanking his hand away, Chanyeol stared. He’d seen those same scales, those same wings, when Yixing kissed him, in the same vision as…

He swallowed. Hard.

“A dragon,” Chanyeol murmured incredulously. “At least it’s more impressive than an ogre.” A hell of a lot more dangerous, though, and with the added dimension of fire-breathing. And flying.

Wait a moment. Did that mean his princess was captured by a _dragon_?

Chanyeol blinked unseeingly into the dim light, ice crawling up his insides at the thought. She was...well, who _knew_ , honestly. Imprisoned. Terrified. Helpless and _alone_. And the rumors, the stories, of just _why_ dragons captured maidens…

Chanyeol’s hand clenched hard around his newly-found knife.

“I need a weapon,” he thought out loud, digging through the pile with renewed vigor, heedless of the body parts he was disturbing. He found the source of the brighter reflection - an older body, dried to nothing but a husk, clad in a chainmail shirt that appeared to be made of brass rather than steel. It was tarnished, but because brass did not rust it was in good condition, still quite strong. Chanyeol wrestled it off the body and pulled it on. The weight hung awkwardly from his shoulders without a gambeson to distribute it, but just the reassurance of having some protection went a long way.

What he wouldn’t give for his exquisitely crafted full plate armor, his longsword, his fucking _horse_ right now. Stupid Enchanted Forest.

“Hey,” Minseok said, “look over here.”

The hare was a little past the pile of bodies, standing near a lone body that had washed up a bit further upriver. Chanyeol picked his way over, covering his nose. This one was _fresh_. 

“Disgusting,” Minseok said, “but look. He’s still got his sword belt. And there’s a waterskin tied to it, as well.”

Indeed there was, and Chanyeol tugged the sword half out of the scabbard, checking it. It seemed to be intact, still well-oiled even, and the oil had protected it from the water.

No such protection existed for the poor sod who had been wearing it, though, and as Chanyeol unbuckled the sword belt he tried hard not to look at the man’s blackened, bubbling flesh, the places where his armor had melted to his skin. Maybe it was a blessing he’d lost his plate, after all; facing a dragon in armor like that he’d roast like a duck in an oven. There was the remains of a bowstave in the corpse’s hand, explaining why he’d been facing a dragon with his sword sheathed.

Chanyeol brought his prize away from its previous owner and inspected it thoroughly in the lanternlight. The waterskin he emptied, rinsed in the stream and re-filled, then he pulled the sword belt tight around his chainmail-clad hips and sheathed the sword, settling it comfortably at a good angle to be drawn.

Minseok watched him with a cocked head. “You look...much more heroic,” he observed. “Very rugged. Are you really going to fight a dragon?”

Pushing his fringe back from his face, Chanyeol briefly wondered if there was a leather thong or a cord or something in that pile that he could use to tie his hair back. His stint in the river the day before and his lack of opportunity to properly bathe afterwards left it tangled and messy and very in his way. “I think I have to,” he said. “I think it’s my destiny.”

“That sucks.”

Yeah. “I’m not going to back down from it,” he said stubbornly, thinking of dark round eyes. “I’ll do what I have to do.” He sighed as his hair fell in his face again - if he was going to fight a dragon, this would never do. “Hey, you didn’t see a cord or tie in that pile at all, did you?”

Between the two of them, they found a leather cord that was not too damaged to use, and Chanyeol gratefully tied his hair back. Much better.

“Are you…” Minseok trailed off, his beady little eye trained on Chanyeol’s hands as he worked. “Do you...need me to come with you?”

Chanyeol blinked at him, then glanced back the way they came, where Lu Han was waiting. “Are you familiar with the other side of the mountain?” he asked.

“Not in the least. But you should probably have someone to watch your back. Even if that someone’s doing it from around your ankles.”

Visions of scales and flames danced behind Chanyeol’s eyes. “I think Lu Han needs someone to watch him more than I,” he said. “You should get back to him.”

Minseok’s nose twitched irritatedly. “Someone has to pay that idiot’s debt,” he grumbled. 

“Minseok,” Chanyeol said, exasperated. “I absolved him of his debt.”

The hare looked away. “But you didn’t absolve me of mine.”

Chanyeol blinked. What did he...oh. Oh.

“I didn’t save him to get payment out of either of you,” Chanyeol said gently. “I saved him because he needed to be saved. You owe me nothing.” He smiled. “Go back to him.”

Minseok let out a long bunny sigh, his nostrils flaring. “Don’t ever fall in love,” he grumbled. “It’s crap.”

Fighting to keep his smile from widening, Chanyeol promised he would keep that in mind. Wishing him luck, Minseok started the trip back to his stag, and Chanyeol turned back towards his future.

The question was, how was he going to get there?

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

As it turned out, the answer was _walk_. A lot. Through the cave, following the river by the meager light of his lantern, because those burnt bodies had to come from _somewhere_.

His meal that night - not that he honestly had a concept of night or day within the mountain - was cave-river fish and mushrooms that he fervently hoped were not the poisonous kind. He slept badly, on the flattest stretch of rock he could find, still dressed in his stolen armor for fear of losing his only protection.

More than once as he travelled, exhausted and alone, he wondered why he’d ever thought this was a good idea. Why he’d ever let the mutterings of the populace and the remarks of his mother get under his skin, that he made such a rash decision. 

But every time his loneliness and unsurety got such that he considered giving up, he remembered the vision he’d beheld at Yixing’s touch, and remembered that the woman he’d seen was out there, in trouble, in danger, and if he gave up she’d remain that way. The thought kept him going, gave him strength.

When he reached a place where the river disappeared into a solid rock wall, though, he couldn’t help but question if he really was insane. Because now he could either turn back, another full day’s travel back out of the mountain the way he came, and then try to find a way up and over…

Or he could get in the river and swim into the tunnel, knowing from the pile back the way he came that the space was wide enough at least for a man’s body, and just pray that the air space would remain the entire way through.

He ended up getting another meal and a nap right there, figuring if he was going to be plunging himself into freezing water for an unknown distance, he had best do it with as much energy as possible. Exhaustion made it easier to fall asleep this time, and he dreamed again of eyes and of flames, and this time, he swore he heard a voice whisper his name like a prayer.

It was enough. When he awoke, the cavern into which the river disappeared looked just as foreboding, but he found himself barely hesitating as he re-tied his hair and clenched his recently-sharpened knife between his teeth. He briefly considered leaving behind his borrowed armor, but it was all he had, and the rocks at the edge of the hole looked jagged enough that he thought the protection was worth the extra weight. He did, however, have to leave his staff behind, and his lantern; the fragile glass would be more of a danger than a help in that kind of current.

The water was as cold as it looked, colder than the river from which he’d pulled Lu Han. Chanyeol submerged up to his chest and began to wade, against the current, his arms braced carefully against the sides of the narrow passage to guide him in the total darkness. He learned quickly to keep his hands below the waterline, despite the chill; above it the rocks were jagged and sharp, but below they had been worn smooth.

He moved as quickly as he dared, not knowing how long he had before the chill made his body numb. It was hard going, and his already overworked muscles were screaming at him with the strain before too long. Fish and bigger, unidentifiable creatures swam past his legs, and occasionally tried to take a bite of him; fortunately his leather boots and leggings provided some protection, but at least one managed to dig in deep enough to draw blood, forcing Chanyeol to slash blindly in the water with his knife until whatever it was - some kind of eel? - was driven off.

Worse was that the cavern kept changing shape, narrowing and widening with the randomness of nature. At times Chanyeol was only submerged up to his waist, and he used those times to try and warm his arms, his hands, his shoulders with friction; but at times the water came up so high Chanyeol had to tilt his head back just to keep his nose and mouth in the scant few inches of stale air at the top of the tunnel, making it impossible to see where he was going. More than once, claustrophobia and the very real fear of drowning or getting trapped forced him to pause, to close his eyes and breathe deeply, until his jangling nerves settled again.

He’d been going for what felt like an eternity when he realized he was running out of space. The water was rushing too fast and the air pocket at the top too narrow for him to maintain breathing room; he was going to need to submerge. In the total darkness of the cavern he had no idea whatsoever if this was a temporary situation or if it went on like this for miles, but by this point he had no choice but to continue forward; he knew if he went back his body would give out before he made it out of the tunnel.

So he turned his back into the current, braced his hands on the roof, took a deep breath, and leaned back into the water, letting his feet come up off the bottom. Kicking his legs mostly just kept him floating near the surface; to get any forward movement he had to haul himself bodily hand over hand, scrabbling for whatever purchase he could find on the jagged tunnel ceiling and praying his hands didn’t slip.

More than once, they did slip, and Chanyeol lost ground as the current swept him back the way he came, but somehow he managed to regain a handhold, dragging himself up to the narrow pocket of air to take a few gasping breaths before submerging and starting again. 

His hands were bloodied, slashed up by the rocks; his arms were shaking and his senses were swimming from lack of consistent air, but somehow, he kept going, not through courage or strength of character or a desire to rescue anyone so much as just a simple will to _not die_.

Something large and heavy hit him right across the backs of his shoulders. Chanyeol cried out in shock without remembering he was underwater and choked as his lungs were suddenly filled. Lashing out blindly, he sank, somehow keeping one hand on the wall enough to keep him from being dragged downstream. He twisted his body until whatever it was untangled from his limbs and flowed past, and as it did Chanyeol realized from the feel of cloth and skin and metal that it was another dead body. Horror made him panic and for a moment in the darkness and weightlessness he forgot his sense of direction, could no longer feel which way was up.

As the lack of air made his systems begin to shut down, Chanyeol opened his eyes and saw in the total darkness the shape of a pair of plush, strikingly curved lips forming his name. He reached out instinctively - and his hand broke the surface, bumping into sharp rock.

The pain jolted him back to awareness, and he dug his fingers into the rock and pulled himself up with all the strength he had left. His face emerged into breathable air, the space so narrow he could feel stone pressing against his nose, but it was enough to cough the water out of his lungs and inhale.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out loud, not really certain to whom he was apologizing or why. The stars swimming behind his eyes seemed to form the impression of a beautiful smile, curved like a heart. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

 _Chanyeol_ , whispered a soundless voice in his mind.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, but he reached up, found a handhold in the rock, and pulled himself forward hand over hand, slowly at first but faster and faster. Maybe it was the fact that he could no longer feel his legs, or that his mind had been so dulled by the lack of oxygen that everything was a blur, but he found himself pouring every last ounce of his strength, every drop of energy he had left into moving forward. Time ceased to matter, and Chanyeol felt his body moving out of his control, his mind floating detachedly somewhere outside of it. 

That was, until his hand grasped for rock and found only air. 

Spluttering back into reality, Chanyeol groped around until he realized what had happened - the tunnel had ended. He found the edge of the rock wall and yanked himself forward, gasping with relief as his head and shoulders emerged from the close, claustrophobic tunnel walls into a high-ceilinged cave. Hanging on hard so that he wasn’t washed back into the tunnel, Chanyeol looked around.

The light was dim, but at least there _was_ light, enough to see that the walls of the chasm opened out a few yards ahead, that there was an actual _shore_. With a surge of strength that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul, Chanyeol fought his way forward. He dragged his battered, shivering body out of the water and collapsed, gasping like the fish he felt he’d become.

He wanted nothing more than to pass out right there, but something, some soft but insistent voice in the back of his mind, told him that if he collapsed now, in this dark cave in soaked clothes, he would not wake. Somehow, he managed to stumble to his numb feet, making his way clumsily towards the light.

Sunlight hit his face, totally blinding him after so long in total darkness. The warmth shocked his frozen limbs, and the agony of blood rushing back into his extremities crippled him. With an aborted cry, he collapsed into the sparse grass at the cave mouth and blacked out.


	4. Chapter 4

This time, Chanyeol was wakened not by a voice, or by a touch, but by movement. He became aware first of a rocking motion, then slowly of the _pain_ , his body bloodied and battered. But he was laid out on something softer than a bed of rocks and covered in a thick blanket, warm and dry.

Warm and dry and _naked_. 

Chanyeol sat bolt upright and _instantly_ regretted it. “ _Ow,_ ” he snarled, clutching at his pounding head with his aching hand. It wasn’t until after he’d done so that he realized his hands were bandaged.

“Hey,” he heard, “he’s awake!”

The rocking motion came to a halt, and as Chanyeol’s eyes adjusted, he realized why - he was in a cart, a covered wagon, the driver of which had just brought whatever was pulling it to a stop. Looking around, Chanyeol noted that the inside of the cart was garishly dressed in reds and oranges and purples, crates and packs lashed to the frame with rough-made rope to keep them from shifting during travel. The blanket over him was equally rough-made and equally garish, chevrons and stripes dyed in sky blue and russet in the thick wool. After nearly a week of nothing but nature and - by his best estimation - two days of near-complete darkness, the colors and patterns almost physically hurt to look at.

The back canvas wall of the wagon pulled open, letting in some angled sunlight - dawn or dusk, Chanyeol couldn’t tell - and a man climbed in, lithe and dark and dressed as obnoxiously as his cart. Chanyeol’s immediate instinct was to scramble away, to find something to defend himself with, but his body protested motion of any description and the man didn’t seem to be threatening, really. (Outside of his apparent predilection for eye-searing color combinations, that was.)

“Whoa,” the man said, holding out both hands, palms forward, in defensive placation. “I’m not here to hurt you, friend. You’re safe.” He had an accent, soft-edged and unfamiliar. 

“Where am I?” Chanyeol croaked, and then grimaced at the gravelly quality of his voice. “Who are you?”

“My name is Jongin, and you’re in the middle of absolute nowhere,” the man told him, rather too cheerfully. “We found you on a riverbank when we stopped to water the horses. You looked like you’d been through hell.”

Not at all an incorrect assumption. “My clothes?” Chanyeol asked.

“We tossed ‘em,” Jongin told him, climbing more fully into the cart and offering Chanyeol a waterskin. Chanyeol took it and gulped from it gratefully. “Your armor was okay but your clothes were soaked and just about as destroyed as your skin. And you were turning blue from the cold, so we figured we needed to get you out of them. What the heck even happened to you?”

“It’s a long story,” Chanyeol mumbled, wiping off his mouth with his forearm. “Do you have clothes I can borrow?”

Jongin opened a nearby chest and dug through it, pulling out some things and tossing them Chanyeol’s way. The shirt was much cheaper-made than Chanyeol was used to, while simultaneously being flouncier and showier than he preferred, deep teal blue with bright yellow ruffles and a neckline that plunged more than halfway down his torso. Thankfully, the trousers were plain black canvas, a little too short but otherwise they fit well. He laced up the fly as Jongin tied open the back wall of the cart, letting in the fading light.

“Let’s just make camp here,” Jongin called, and Chanyeol craned his head to see who he was talking to. There was movement outside the canvas, at least two bodies, but Chanyeol couldn’t make out features.

Jongin held out his hand. “What’s your name, friend?” he asked.

Chanyeol blinked at him. “...Chanyeol,” he said finally, and took Jongin’s hand gingerly with his own, heavily bandaged one. Jongin helped him to roll up to his knees and get out of the back of the wagon. His bare feet hit cool, dewy grass, and Chanyeol looked around.

They were at the side of a road, with no civilization visible in any direction. The sun was already almost disappeared behind the massive range of mountains which loomed up on the western horizon; from that Chanyeol deduced that they had been travelling north, perpendicular to the direction he’d intended to go.

“How far have we come since you picked me up?” Chanyeol asked. It came out a little bit sharp, a little bit anxious.

“It’s been half a day,” Jongin said, pulling a spade from a crate behind Chanyeol’s shoulder and jumping down to the ground. “Why? You got somewhere to be?”

Chanyeol sighed. “Maybe,” he said, staring at the mountains. They were a lot wider than he’d expected - how was he _ever_ going to find his destiny?

“Well, you’re in no shape to travel alone,” Jongin said decisively. “We’re headed for a town; you’re welcome to stay with us until we reach it. Should be about one more day’s ride.” He flashed Chanyeol a grin that burned white against his tanned skin. “We seem to be collecting strays these days, anyway.”

“I heard that,” an unfamiliar voice said. Chanyeol leaned around the side of the wagon - ow ow ow, good _heavens_ his back was a mess - and looked for the source. He found it in a tall and extraordinarily thin young blond man, coming around the back of the wagon with a bundle of firewood in his hands, dressed similarly to how Chanyeol now was (except in an unfortunate shade of pink) and looking exceedingly unimpressed with everything around him.

Jongin’s grinned widened. “Chanyeol, this is Sehun. We picked him up about a week ago.”

Sehun glared. “You make me sound like a sack of potatoes.”

“It’s not an un-apt comparison.”

“I hate you.”

Jongin blew him an obnoxious kiss and started digging a fire pit. Sehun rolled his eyes in Chanyeol’s general direction, making a smile tug at the corners of Chanyeol’s lips.

“Ah, Sleeping Handsome awakens,” a third new voice said, this one sharp-toned but with the same odd accent that Jongin had. 

“His name is Chanyeol,” Jongin said as the newest man came around the back, a sweaty, muddy saddle hefted up onto his shoulder. He was smaller than Jongin, and paler, with catlike features, and his clothes were the loudest yet, layers of colors and patterns and heavy, tacky golden jewelry. “Chanyeol, that’s Jongdae, my unfortunate partner-in-crime.”

Jongdae somehow managed an elaborate bow over one leg while holding a saddle nearly half as big as he was. “Charmed, sir,” he said with a wink. “Welcome to our little caravan. I hope you can cook because Jongin is terrible.”

“As if you’re better.”

“I’ve seen you burn _water_ , boy. You have a rare talent.”

“If you two don’t shut up, I’m stealing the new guy and both your horses and taking off,” Sehun threatened. Jongin and Jongdae flipped him an array of rude gestures in quick succession and Chanyeol had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing.

“Um,” he offered, “I can cook game?” He’d never had reason to learn the more delicate craft of kitchen cooking, but campfire cooking he could do.

“Excellent!” Jongdae enthused. “Sehun, go hunt us some game.” He hefted the saddle into the back of the wagon, then hauled himself up after it, digging in the crates for a tack brush and saddle soap.

Chanyeol ended up helping Jongin with the fire while Sehun hunted and Jongdae took care of the tack. He moved very slowly, his entire body one pulsing mass of pain, but the more he moved the more the stiffness wore through and the less pained he felt. His hands were cut up, but they seemed to be smaller cuts that would heal quickly. Other than the bite wound on his thigh from that eel, the rest was just nasty scrapes and bruises on his arms and legs. His borrowed chainmail had thankfully protected his back, shoulders and chest from being battered by the rocks; he was just sore from exertion and being knocked around by the current.

Jongin and Jongdae pelted him with questions, which he answered as truthfully as he dared - he was on a Quest, he wasn’t certain where he was going, but he knew he needed to go west. He left out his parentage, and also the more unbelievable elements of his journey so far; but he did, hesitantly, talk about his vision, about the images of a dragon and the glimpses of the woman he believed was waiting for him.

“You should talk to Sehun,” Jongin said as he began chopping up vegetables, perched on a felled log with a cutting board balanced on his knees. “He’s on a Quest himself.”

Chanyeol blinked, and opened his mouth to ask what kind of Quest, but at that moment Sehun himself returned with a young doe slung over his broad shoulders, and Chanyeol’s throat suddenly felt dry. The doe was smaller, and antlerless, but still, the image of Lu Han in that doe’s place hit him hard.

He closed his eyes. Humans had been hunting deer for eons. It was fine. It was normal. And Lu Han was so deep in a forest filled with hostile creatures that he might never encounter a human hunter in his life, anyway.

The image of Lu being suddenly felled by an arrow in the middle of a conversation with Minseok flashed through his mind, but he pushed it away. These men had rescued him, and he’d volunteered to cook for them, and in any case, he hadn’t had a substantial meal in a week. 

“You okay?” Sehun’s flat voice asked lowly, and Chanyeol opened his eyes to see him standing over him with the deer still in hand.

“Yeah,” Chanyeol assured him, though his stomach was rolling. “I’m fine.” He looked over his shoulder at Jongdae. “Got a knife?”

Jongdae reached into still another crate. “We kept yours,” he said, passing it to Chanyeol.

Preparing a whole deer was something he hadn’t done since he was a teenager, but the palace huntsman had drilled the process into his head, citing that no man should be forced to rely on someone else to prepare his meals, prince or no. So Chanyeol said a silent and heartfelt apology to Lu Han and Minseok and this poor young doe herself, and started to skin the carcass.

Between the simple vegetables and a few jars of herbs that Jongdae had lying around, Chanyeol managed to produce a fairly reasonable meal. And despite his guilt, the meat tasted like heaven to his half-starved system. For the first time since he’d set out, Chanyeol felt full.

Over dinner, Jongin goaded Sehun into talking about his own Quest, likely for Chanyeol’s benefit. Sehun, as it turned out, had a friend, a very close childhood friend who had a few years before been sent away to live with his uncle. Sehun had received a letter two weeks previous that told of the horrors inflicted by the friend’s new guardian - who, as it turned out, was an evil sorcerer - and begged Sehun to come rescue him.

“Tao’s never been a fighter,” Sehun said softly, staring into the fire where the remains of dinner was still hanging on Chanyeol’s rough-made roasting spit. “He’s strong, he’s fast, and he’s absolute _crap_ at defending himself. He gets startled by songbirds. His favorite pastime is _knitting_. I couldn’t leave him.”

Chanyeol felt a surge of simultaneous camaraderie and jealousy with the younger man. Jongin was right - Sehun _got it_. Sehun understood what it was to fight your way through hell and high water for the sake of someone else. But at the same time, Sehun actually knew who his person was. Knew where they were, how bad the situation was for them, how he would be received when he came to the rescue. Knew what he was up against.

Chanyeol didn’t know any of those things. All he had was a vision and a gut feeling.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

The four dubiously-dressed travellers set out at dawn. Fed and rested and in somewhat less pain, Chanyeol was in good spirits, and his conversation with Jongin was easy and casual, riding on the driver’s bench of the cart as they drove behind Jongdae and Sehun on the horses.

“What are you planning to do once we get to town?” Jongin asked, after they’d been on the road for half an hour or so.

“I’m not sure, to be honest,” Chanyeol said. “I’m alright as long as I don’t move too quickly, but it’ll be a few days at least before I’m feeling up to travelling on my own, let alone facing a dragon. And I suppose I’ll need to find someone to direct me, too. Those mountains look awfully expansive; I’d imagine even a huge mythical monster could find plenty of places to hide.”

Jongin gave him a considering look out of the corner of his eye. “You don’t have any money, do you?” he asked shrewdly. “You weren’t carrying a purse or anything when we found you.”

Chanyeol wondered briefly if they’d frisked him. “No, all my money was lost with the rest of my supplies in the forest,” he realized. Until this point, he hadn’t had reason to think about it, and growing up a prince he was used to taking money for granted. “I suppose I’ll need to find a way to get some if I want to eat in that village, huh?”

“Or have a roof over your head, yeah,” Jongin said. “Well, you can always join our act for a while.”

His eyebrows raising without his input, Chanyeol asked, “Your _act_?”

“Well. Yes.” Jongin blinked at him. “What, you don’t think we dress like this because we _like_ it, do you? Well, alright, _Jongdae_ does, but his taste is atrocious.” Jongin made a grand gesture at the garishly colored wagon. “We’re travelling performers. People will pay all kinds of money if you interrupt their boredom.”

Oh. Chanyeol had never really had occasion to see travelling performers before, at least not outside of the renowned ones who were invited to perform at the palace. “What...what would I need to do?” he asked cautiously.

Jongin looked surprised he was actually considering it. “That depends on what you _can_ do, I guess,” he said. “I dance, Jongdae sings, we both bang clumsily on drums. People throw money at us, sometimes literally.” He nodded at the tall figure ranging ahead, bow out in his hand. “Sehun is pretty terrible at singing but he picks up choreography quick, so for the past few days he’s been out there dancing with me. We’ve got this sort of night-and-day theme going on. People are eating it up.” He adjusted the reins in his hand. “So? What can you do?”

An excellent question. “I can...sing? Sort of?” In truth, he’d been trained in the basics of a number of arts, but he was wary of mentioning that, for fear his obvious education would give away his high-standing background. Jongin - and the other two - treated him like they would any other man, and Chanyeol found it refreshing. “I can probably bang a drum at least as clumsily as you. And. Um.” Oh, what the heck. “I do know a couple of sword dances. I trained with the military for a little while.”

Jongin’s eyebrows disappeared into his dark hair. “That _would_ be something,” Jongin said. “That’s a rare skill in these parts. I’ll be asking you to demonstrate when we break next. In the meantime, sing me a song.”

Chanyeol blinked, and harumphed to clear his throat, and took a drink from his waterskin. “Right now?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Jongin challenged. “Sing for me.”

So Chanyeol did, softly. The only song that came to mind was the old folk song his nanny had sang for him as a child, the same one he’d sung to himself while making camp that first night. It wasn’t the same without some kind of accompaniment, so he tapped out a simple beat on the bench of the wagon and his own thighs.

He went through the first verse with his eyes on the backs of the horses in front of him, not looking up until his voice trailed off. Jongin was watching him and grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh yeah,” he said, wrapping an arm companionably around Chanyeol’s shoulders, “you’ll do just fine.”

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Once Jongin explained the situation to Jongdae and Sehun, their day was as much rehearsing as it was travelling. By the time they reached the town, a little village that housed maybe a fourth as many people as Chanyeol’s home palace alone, they’d fit Chanyeol into their show in as many places as they could manage. Jongdae went in first to speak to the innkeeper, and he’d come back out at a jog and disappeared into the back of the wagon with a hiss of _we’re on in half an hour_. The next half an hour was a flurry of preparation, and then they filed into the little in and took up a cleared area that served as a stage in front of what seemed to be half the town.

With fingerless leather gloves pulled over his bandaged hands, his ragged hair brushed out and tied back, and his collar pulled open as far as it could go, Chanyeol took a hand drum and kept the beat. Jongin had told him that any amount of showing off or flirting with the audience that he could do would directly translate into a bigger take for the night, but Chanyeol wasn’t really certain how to flirt with an audience, so he just sort of smiled widely when someone caught his eye and hoped it came off rakishly handsome and not manic.

Not that anyone was looking at him, anyway. The first number was focused on Jongin, because apparently he garnered the most attention, and Chanyeol could see why. Dressed in layers and layers of brightly colored silks that somehow managed to hide exactly none of his sleek, dark body, with tinkling brass bells ringing his wrists, ankles, and hips, every single thing about him was carefully calculated to be attention-catching. His movements were graceful and strong, punctuated with stomping and clapping and carefully timed jingling of bells, making music as much as the drums Chanyeol and Sehun were playing.

Then Jongdae started to sing, his clear, powerful voice ringing off the beams of the little inn. Chanyeol was glad he’d heard him practicing on the road, or he might have completely forgotten to keep his beat. It was a simple performance, but a captivating one, and judging by the catcalls and hollering it was well received.

The next song was a little faster, a little darker, and both Jongdae’s voice and Jongin’s body oozed sex as they performed. This went on for a handful more numbers, with Jongdae occasionally addressing the audience and making them laugh in between, and then it was Chanyeol’s turn. He handed his drum to Jongdae, picked up his sword, and rolled out his shoulders as he took his place in the center of the makeshift stage.

Military sword dancing was created originally as an exercise in strength, coordination, and concentration; it had developed into a slightly showier art form over time as trained officers used it to impress royalty and entice new recruits. Chanyeol had always been good at it, his long arms giving him an advantage of space. Jongdae set a steady beat, and Chanyeol began to spin his blade, just on the one side of his body at first, but soon crossing over, overhead, switching hands, spinning in place and tossing the sword in the air.

He was a little out of practice, but his muscles remembered what his mind did not, and the routines flowed out of him easily. Only once did his bandaged hands cause the sword to slip, but he caught it and did what he could to make the mistake look intentional. Signalling (as agreed) with a double stamp of his right foot that he was ready to end, he launched into the flashiest sequence he knew as Jongdae’s beat sped. The sequence ended with him dropping the sword, catching it across the instep of his boot and tossing it back up. He caught the sword and dropped into a flourished bow, and the audience erupted into cheering.

“Brilliant,” Jongin whispered as they traded places, squeezing his arm in excitement. “Now we bring it home.” Chanyeol took the drum from Sehun as he stood as well, and Jongdae picked up an oddly-shaped string instrument that Chanyeol had never seen before.

He’d been taught the beat for this one, which was a simple pattern of four bars repeated over and over, so and Jongdae’s signal he began to play. Four bars in, Jongdae added both voice and strings, and Jongin began to move.

The song was one Chanyeol had not heard, something about the sun and the moon, and Jongin and Sehun were playing the parts, Jongin in red and orange, his darker skin set off by gold jewelry, and Sehun in blue and grey and white, with strands of bells to match Jongin’s, but in silver. They moved well together, and though it was clear that Jongin was the professional, Sehun kept up. 

Though he wanted to drop his drum - and his jaw - and just _watch_ , Chanyeol managed to keep his four-bar pattern going, and when the two young men were finished, applause erupted and Jongin and Sehun moved through the crowd with baskets, accepting donations. (They also accepted some inappropriate touching, which made Chanyeol frown, but both men shrugged it off with easy laughter and smiles, and Jongdae wasn’t saying anything so Chanyeol let it go.)

As planned, Jongdae announced him as the encore - because, as he’d said earlier, if you collect both before the encore and after, sometimes people donate twice - and as the crowd quieted, Chanyeol took the stage, cleared his throat, and started to sing.

He’d performed sword dancing in front of a crowd before, but never _sang_ for one, and standing still and staring at the audience quickly became too much for his nerves. He closed his eyes and pretended he was home, singing to himself in the gardens at night.

Except that behind his eyelids he saw those eyes again, that beautiful smile, and something new, the brush of black hair against a rosy cheek, and suddenly he was singing to _her_. And he’d heard the song so many times, _all his life_ , but he’d never actually listened to the _lyrics_ , never realized before how they reflected what was in his heart. 

It was over before he realized it. The applause was deafening, and he opened his eyes only to realize there were tears in them. Tears for his homeland which he’d left, and also for his future, which was unknown. 

Chanyeol received congratulations from patrons and fellow performers alike and got a basket shoved in his hands, Jongin grabbing him by the wrist to go make the rounds one more time. He went in a daze, his mind still half back in his vision, still trying to piece together a whole face from the glimpses he’d seen so far. 

He was yanked rather rudely back to reality when a woman swiftly groped at his exposed chest, and barely had time to react to that before he felt a _different_ hand cupping his ass. Jongin’s grip on his wrist kept him from whirling around and demanding to know who was manhandling him, but the younger man seemed to have noticed his sudden discomfort and ushered him back to the stage. The four of them bowed one last time, then Jongdae sent Sehun and Chanyeol back to the cart while he and Jongin stayed to chat up patrons.

The moment the caravan’s canvas flap was closed, Sehun yanked off the jewelry, the baby-blue silk shirt. Chanyeol followed his example, sick to death of the yellow ruffles. “You did really well,” Sehun told him. “That looked like a good take.” He gave Chanyeol a shrewd look. “You know, you told us you trained with the army, not that you were an officer,” he said, “but that swordwork was much too advanced for the rank-and-file. And yet, you don’t move or act like a _soldier_.” His eyes narrowed. “You’re a nobleman, aren’t you?”

Chanyeol flushed. “Don’t say anything,” he pleaded. “I don’t want to make things strange between them and me.”

Sehun made a buttoning motion over his lips. “I only noticed because I’m from the East, like you,” he assured Chanyeol. “Jongin and Jongdae, they’re from the South, I’m sure they’d never make the connection.” He dug through one of the crates near the back of the caravan and pulled out a plain, deep blue shirt, no ruffles besides a little bit of a flounce at the cuffs. “So. How noble are we talking?” he asked, tossing the shirt Chanyeol’s direction. Chanyeol pulled it on gratefully - those butter-yellow ruffles were _really_ getting to him.

“Uh.” Chanyeol gave Sehun a careful look. “Pretty noble, actually.”

“You’re not _royalty_ , are you?” Sehun asked, half in jest. Chanyeol reddened and Sehun’s jaw dropped. “Oh _hellfire_. No wonder you’re keeping it under wraps.”

“Please don’t -” Chanyeol stopped, not really sure what he was asking. _Don’t treat me differently._

“Nah,” Sehun said. “Never held much stock in bloodlines anyway. It’s about what a man does, not who his parents are.” He yanked on another shirt himself, dark grey and even plainer than Chanyeol’s. “I’m close now,” he said softly, looking down. “The sorcerer's tower is less than a day’s ride from here. Jongin and Jongdae are staying for another night, but I’m leaving in the morning.”

Oh.

“Are you scared?” Chanyeol asked curiously. Sehun looked up at him with a little smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I’m kind of scared. But I’m gonna do it. Tao needs me.”

On a sudden whim, Chanyeol asked, “Do you need help?” Sehun blinked at him, and Chanyeol clarified, “Someone to watch your back, I mean. You _are_ going up against an evil sorcerer.”

The smile this time was more genuine. “I appreciate the offer,” Sehun said, “but I can’t wait, and you’re in no shape to be travelling like that, or fighting either. You concentrate on getting better so you can go rescue your fair maiden. I’ve got this. With luck I can get Tao out without ever running into his evil uncle.”

Chanyeol opened his mouth to protest, but at that moment Jongin and Jongdae came back, to give them their shares of the money earned and to usher them into the inn for dinner.


	5. Chapter 5

True to his word, Sehun set out at first light the next morning, in borrowed leather armor with his bow strung across his back. Jongin and Jongdae stuck around for one more night, then they were gone the day after, leaving Chanyeol alone in a tiny room in a tiny inn in a tiny town at the foot of a massive range of mountains.

For those two days, Chanyeol rested, and healed, and performed to earn some coin, first with Jongin and Jongdae and then on his own. It was a new experience, working for his room and board, but Chanyeol found he rather enjoyed it. He would have enjoyed it a lot more, of course, if the knowledge that his destiny still waited wasn’t hanging so heavily over his head, but he knew the moment he was well enough to not get killed in a fight, he would have to set out once more.

In the meantime, he gathered his resources and searched for information. Jongin left him the black pants and blue shirt, and he still had his borrowed chainmail, his found sword, and the boots he’d started with, considerably more worn than when he left.

His room at the inn had a mirror, and the first time Chanyeol looked at himself in it was a sobering experience. In less than three weeks, he looked like a completely different man. He was thinner, his face sharp-edged and his body angled and hard. His skin was too pale, dark circles under his eyes prominent, though two days of real meals and sleeping in an actual bed helped that considerably. And his hair was _terrible_ , tangled and dirty and wild. He looked nothing like a prince and it shouldn’t have bothered him, but it did. 

It was petty and small-minded of him to think _I should look like a hero when I meet my beloved_ , but he couldn’t help but think it anyway, and spent some of his hard-earned coin on a real bath with real soap. It made a difference, and on the evening of his second day there, Chanyeol decided he would set out the next day to begin exploring the mountains. He hadn’t been able to find a map of the mountains, so he’d have to just guess, but at least the cuts on his hands would be healed enough for him to remove the bandages by the morning.

He performed one last time, to get coin for supplies, and was about to head up to his room when the door opened and a very haggard-looking Sehun entered. 

Chanyeol blinked. Sehun didn’t look hurt, but he looked _defeated_ , his shoulders slumped and his head hanging. Chanyeol caught his attention, and Sehun crossed the room and dragged him down to sit at a table, signalling for an ale.

“What happened?” Chanyeol asked.

Sehun’s head fell into his hands. “It was a fucking farce,” he muttered. “It was...I’m so angry right now. I came all this way and it wasn’t even…” He blew out a long breath, stirring his blond fringe from his forehead. “ _Fuck._ ”

Shaking his head, Chanyeol took Sehun’s wrist and gave it a companionable squeeze. “Start from the beginning,” he suggested.

So Sehun did. Told Chanyeol about how he’d found the tower, how he’d broken in and snuck up to Tao’s room. About their reunion, which was warm and tearful as expected, and how Sehun realized something was off when he looked around and realized Tao’s room at his uncle’s was not only _not_ a prison cell as he’d been led to believe, it was nice, _cushy_ even. How Tao wouldn’t let them leave until he’d packed some of his things, and how Sehun had stopped to look around and realized that Tao had been provided with everything he could want, not only in terms of basics but books, games, clothes, jewels. 

“The worst part was,” Sehun murmured miserably, “I know Tao well enough to know all the gifts were really thoughtful. They weren’t just to win him over, they were genuinely things he would like, things he would want. I thought he was being held in a prison against his will, but he’s being spoiled rotten.” He sighed. “But I thought, maybe there’s more to it, maybe the physical gifts don’t reflect what his uncle is actually like. I mean, someone can buy you nice things and still beat you, right? So once he’d gotten all his things together, I helped him sneak out the way I came in, avoiding the locks and the traps and the spells, but his uncle caught us at the scullery door.”

Chanyeol’s grip on his cup tightened. “Did he attack you?”

The laugh that came out of Sehun’s mouth was ugly. “No,” he said. “He didn’t. He didn’t even get angry. He was just _disappointed_.” Long-fingered hands dragged down a weary face. “I listened to them argue for about three minutes before I made sense of what I was hearing. Tao wasn’t actually in any danger. Joonmyun - that’s his uncle - he just, you know, had _rules_. Normal rules, rules that make sense, like ‘don’t stay out after dark’ and ‘don’t go out with anyone I don’t know’ and ‘stay out of my workshop, it’s dangerous.’” He sighed heavily. “A little strict, a little over-protective, maybe, but not _evil_. Tao called me halfway across the continent on false pretenses. I got so angry, I just...I just left him behind.” Sehun downed the rest of his glass in one shot.

“That’s terrible,” Chanyeol said, full of sympathy. He couldn’t imagine something like that. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah.” Sehun set his glass down with a clang and signalled the barmaid for another. “The worst part is, Tao has absolutely no clue what I went through to get to him. I don’t think he has any idea how dangerous the road is between him and me, how far I’ve come, how many times I nearly died. All because one spoiled brat couldn’t handle having a curfew.”

There wasn’t anything Chanyeol could really say to that, so he just listened to Sehun rant, and after his fourth ale cut him off, paid his tab and helped him upstairs. Sehun didn’t have coin for a room, so Chanyeol brought the younger man, now quite drunk and getting tearful, up to his own. He put him in the bed and curled up on the floor with an extra blanket. Sleep was slow to come, his mind unsettled by what he’d heard.

He’d only just drifted off when a crack of thunder and a flash of light startled them both awake, flailing for weapons to defend themselves.

“ _Where is he?!_ ” a furious and unfamiliar voice snarled. 

Chanyeol kicked the blankets off and sat up, looking around. The dim moonlight coming through the window lit the shape of a man standing in the room, stance wide and threatening. Chanyeol grabbed his sword and stumbled to his feet.

“Who are you?” he demanded, as Sehun behind him attempted to do the same but got tangled in blankets.

Light flooded the room suddenly, making them both throw their hands up to shield their eyes. 

“You!” the man cried, pushing past Chanyeol to make for Sehun. Instinctively, Chanyeol reached out to stop him, to protect his likely still-drunk friend. He had enough time to note that the intruder was a small, lithe man, not a threatening figure at all now that Chanyeol was up off the floor, before the man gestured and Chanyeol was thrown back, pinned to the wall spread-eagle by an invisible force. Sehun’s eyes went wide.

“Joonmyun!” Sehun said, scrambling to get to his feet. This must be the sorcerer, then, as evidenced by the fact that Chanyeol _suddenly couldn’t move_. “Wait, what do you mean, _where is he?_ ”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Joonmyun growled. “Tao’s _gone_ and I _know_ he went with you.”

That got Sehun’s attention. “What?!” he cried, his bow suddenly appearing in his hand. Chanyeol was rather impressed with that, actually - the younger man was all but unconscious when Chanyeol put him to bed; he wasn’t certain how he’d even known where Chanyeol had put his things.

His fervency made Joonmyun falter, the thunderous lines of his expression furrowing into confusion. “He isn’t with you?” he asked, his tone less angry and more worried.

“No!” Sehun said urgently. “I haven’t had any contact with him since I left your tower.” Chanyeol swallowed around the lump in his throat at the fear in Sehun’s tone, in his eyes. He might have been angry, but the depth to which he cared for his friend was obvious.

“Shit.” Joonmyun ran a hand through his hair, and the invisible bonds pinning Chanyeol to the wall dissolved. He fell to the ground, stumbling forward. “That was my only idea.”

Sehun reached forward and grabbed the smaller man’s arm, as Chanyeol regained his balance and reclaimed his sword. “Take me back with you,” he said hurriedly. “I’ll help you look for him.”

He got a shrewd look. “Even after what Tao pulled on you?”

“He’s my friend.” Sehun declared immediately. Watching the proceedings with wary eyes, Chanyeol pulled on his newly-purchased gambeson, throwing the chain shirt on over it. He had a feeling things were about to get rough. Seeing what he was doing, Sehun looked around the room; Chanyeol silently pointed out the corner where he’d stashed Sehun’s own armor.

Dark eyes considered Chanyeol appraisingly. “And what about _this_ man?” he asked. Sehun and Chanyeol both stopped and blinked at his tone, but Sehun got the implications first.

“He’s also a _friend_ ,” Sehun said firmly. “And, if his offer to back me up still stands….?” 

“Of course,” Chanyeol immediately assured him. 

Sehun nodded, his mouth set in a firm line but thankfulness shining in his eyes. “Then we’ll _both_ come help look. That kid has the worst knack for finding trouble.”

Joonmyun sighed heavily, watching as the two taller men pulled on armor and boots and strapped on their weapons. “That’s precisely my fear,” he murmured. “I have a _reason_ for being as strict with him as I am. He’s a target.”

Brows furrowed under blond fringe. “What do you mean?” Sehun asked warily. 

Another sigh. “It runs in the family,” Joonmyun said. “He, like his mother and I, have a particular energy that is...enticing, to certain types of creatures. It’s the same energy that lets us use magic. My sister - his mother - she didn’t want him growing up the way we did, so she protected him, shielded him from the notice of the supernatural, and never told him of his heritage. When she died, I knew I had to shelter him the same way, or else…” He trailed off, letting the threat remain unsaid.

Sehun had gone paler even than usual. “Then we need to go, _now_ ,” he said, not even stopping to question it. “Are we ready?” he asked, looking to Chanyeol for confirmation. Chanyeol nodded. 

Joonmyun regarded them both for a long moment, looking older, and shrewd, and _tired_. “If you’re sure you want to get involved,” he muttered. “Knowing my family, it could be extraordinarily dangerous.”

Sehun looked again to Chanyeol, because of course, Sehun himself had long since made up his mind. His total devotion gave Chanyeol courage. “It’ll be good practice for when I have to fight a dragon,” Chanyeol said offhandedly, and Joonmyun’s eyebrows nearly leapt off his face. 

“If you’re _sure_ ,” Joonmyun said again, “then take my hand.” He held out both hands, small and delicate and pale, but they sparked with visible power in shifting colors. Sehun and Chanyeol reached forward at the same time, and with a very odd yanking sensation at the base of his spine, they were suddenly in a high-beamed sitting room, standing by a massive fireplace.

Sehun took charge instantly, while Chanyeol was still trying to rearrange his worldview. “Where was he last?” he asked, moving already towards the stairs at the far end of the room.

“His room, as far as I know,” Joonmyun called, jogging a little to catch up with Sehun’s long strides. They both started up the stairs, but as Chanyeol moved to follow them, something caught his attention.

A breath of incongruous cold air from the fireplace, brushing past his hand.

Confused, Chanyeol turned to look. Was it coming down the chimney? But that fire was so large - how could a cold breeze like that make it past?

He moved closer, inspecting the fireplace itself, the brick, the bookshelves around it. After a moment, he felt it again, and traced it back to a crack in the wall between the fireplace and the bookshelf, wide enough for him to feel it with his fingers but at the wrong angle to see unless he craned his head awkwardly around the bricks. When he did exactly that, he saw a glimmer of light from between the shelves and the brick.

“Sehun!” he called, his deep voice reverberating oddly in the mostly-stone room. After a moment, footsteps pounded back down the stairs, and both Sehun and Joonmyun reappeared. “I think there’s a secret passage here!”

Sehun looked to Joonmyun, who frowned. “I wasn’t aware of one,” he said, “but this tower’s been in the family for thousands of years, it has all kinds of secrets.” He came right over and inspected the place Chanyeol indicated. “You’re right. And it’s been opened recently, and not closed properly.” He grabbed the bookshelf and pulled experimentally; it jerked like it was latched but didn’t budge.

Sehun was looking around the area, tugging out books and running his hands over the shelves. “How are we going to figure out how to open it?” he asked.

Joonmyun snorted. “We don’t have time for that. Step back.” Sehun hurried to do so, and Joonmyun held up his hands and muttered some words Chanyeol couldn’t catch, and then the shelf was flat-out _melting_ , books thudding to the floor in a cascade as the wood dissolved to reveal a dusty and dark stone staircase. A flick of Joonmyun’s fingers lit the ancient torches lining the walls; the smell of burning dust assaulted their noses but the way was visible enough for Sehun to start down the stairs, bow drawn and arrow notched.

At the bottom of the stairs was a room, circular and rather small, lined in bookshelves on one side and glass cases of oddities on the other. Another flick of Joonmyun’s fingers lit the torches on these walls, and Chanyeol’s breath caught as he realized what he was looking at.

He’d never seen a casting circle in person before, but that was unmistakably what it was, drawn on the old stone floor in what looked uncomfortably like blood. There was no movement, no sign of life in the room, but closer inspection revealed that the liquid on the floor was still wet.

“No,” Joonmyun gasped, staring at the markings on the ground. “That little _idiot_ , what has he _done_?”

“You tell us,” Chanyeol muttered, because he had absolutely no idea what he was looking at, other than _probably bad_. (Anything written in blood usually was.)

“It’s a summoning circle,” Joonmyun explained. “Basic-level, meant to bind the lowest class of imp to your service. But he didn’t write the wards correctly.” He pointed at places in the circle that looked like complete gibberish to Chanyeol. “See, here, this is not right. And here, too. Without those wards activating, _anything_ could have come through.”

If Chanyeol thought Sehun looked pale and grim before, he was now witnessing a whole new level. “And you said his ... _energy_ , is attractive to supernatural creatures?”

Joonmyun’s nod was grim. “He may as well have lit a beacon over his head,” he muttered. “Anything like that would leave a mark, though.” He whispered some words, made a gesture, and a trail of pale green light flowed out from the circle, disappearing into a stone wall. 

Chanyeol and Sehun exchanged glances. Sehun looked absolutely _sick_ with fear. “I’m sure he’s alright,” Chanyeol said softly. “We just have to get to him as quickly as we can.”

“I hope you’re right,” Joonmyun said grimly, striding forward and melting that stone wall the way he’d melted the bookshelf. “But you’d better be prepared to be wrong. Chances are good whatever came through possessed him. If it comes down to killing Tao or letting a demon loose on the countryside, I won’t have a choice, no matter how much I love him.”

“ _No_ ,” Sehun said, following with a quick stride and a hard glint in his eyes. “We’ll save him.” 

Joonmyun gave him an unreadable look, but didn’t answer.

The dissolved wall revealed a narrow ledge outside, overlooking the moat. The trail of light floated right over the water, lending credence to Joonmyun’s fear of possession. But Chanyeol didn’t point that out; he just let the sorcerer float them all to the other side, and they took off into the woods surrounding the tower, following the trail.

It was a tense few minutes, moving at the fastest pace possible through the dense underbrush, all three afraid of what they would find when they got to Tao and more afraid of what would happen if they weren’t fast enough. Sehun was too much in shock to be thinking rationally, so Chanyeol questioned Joonmyun in an undertone as they moved. How demon possession worked, how they would know if all hope was lost for Tao, what they could do to try to save him. Joonmyun answered him in terse, short sentences, holding back more than he was saying, but it gave Chanyeol something to go on, anyway. _Our best chance is to get the demon inside a warding circle, he explained. But those take time to scribe, time we might not get._

“There,” Sehun said suddenly, breaking into a sprint. Chanyeol looked ahead to see a figure kneeling on the ground, long, bare arms wrapped around himself and muttering something unintelligible. He raced to follow, but Sehun was faster, skidding to his knees in front of his friend and dropping his bow in the dirt to wrap his hands around the other boy’s shoulders. “Tao? _Tao!_ ”

“Sehun,” Chanyeol said warningly, not liking the way the boy was trembling. He drew his sword with one hand and reached out for Sehun with the other, intending to tug him away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Joonmyun begin scribing a circle in faint blue light, just like he’d said, moving quickly with a wary eye on the two boys in the center. 

“Huang Zitao, I am so angry with you right now,” Sehun said, sounding much more fearful and upset than angry. “You had better still be in there. Dammit, _look at me!_ ”

Tao looked up. His eyes were solid red and glowing, no pupils or whites to be seen. Shocked, Chanyeol froze in place, his hand but a scant length from Sehun’s shoulder. 

“Sehun?” Tao said, clear as day in a small, frightened voice.

Sehun let out a broken, dry sob, throwing his arms around Tao’s shivering body and burying his face in his neck. Standing behind Sehun, Chanyeol had the perfect vantage point to see Tao glance to the side and spot Joonmyun. His face twisted, the frightened young man replaced in an instant with something inhuman and hateful.

“SEHUN!” Chanyeol roared, leaping forward to yank them apart. The demon - because that was unmistakably what he was facing now - _hissed_ , and Chanyeol was thrown back, bouncing painfully off the uneven ground.

Sehun started to scream.

“Hold him!” Joonmyun yelled as Chanyeol scrambled to his feet and raced back to them. “Keep him there!”

The demon was writhing now in Sehun’s arms, fighting to get away, but Sehun had locked his hands together and was hanging on with what had to be every ounce of strength he had, even as he cried out in pain. Smoke was rising from the places where their skin touched, and as Chanyeol dropped to his own knees behind Tao and added his strength to Sehun’s, he realized why - Tao’s body was furnace-hot, his clothes beginning to smoulder and Sehun’s skin searing audibly where it touched Tao’s bare.

Chanyeol kept his own arms wrapped low around Tao’s waist, where several layers of clothing protected him somewhat, and held on as Tao bucked, fighting their hold with inhuman strength. He wanted to yell to Joonmyun to _hurry up already_ but he suspected that would be both distracting and really obvious.

A flare of cool blue light around them doused a good portion of the heat, and Tao abruptly stopped struggling. “Got it,” Joonmyun called. “Get ready!”

 _Ready for what_ , Chanyeol thought, but he found out in the next moment as Joonmyun raised both hands and began chanting in a powerful, unnaturally resonant voice. This time, it was Tao who screamed, and Chanyeol felt him writhing again, this time in a less purposeful way, like he was in pain. The skin of his back began to shift and move like something was trying to break the surface, and Chanyeol hurriedly pulled away, watching in horror as a monster three times Tao’s size broke free of his skin and ripped out of his clothes.

Holy _fuck._

Tao’s sobbing was human now, terrified and agonized, his back a mass of blood. “Get him out of here!” Chanyeol called to Sehun, staring up at the _thing_ now towering over them in the center of the circle. “Joonmyun, can you banish it?”

“ _That’s what I just did,_ ” Joonmyun yelled back. “I can hold it on this plane so you can hurt it, but that’s all! We have to kill it!”

 _ **I’d love to see you try,**_ a deep, impossible voice rang in Chanyeol’s head. He heard Joonmyun’s sharp intake of breath, Sehun’s noise of surprise.

Time seemed to slow for Chanyeol, the way it always did when he was facing down danger. He saw Sehun cradling Tao’s broken body and scrambling to get out of the circle, saw Joonmyun’s arms trembling as blue lightning pulsed over his skin. They were both occupied. Chanyeol was on his own.

He lifted his sword and swung with all his might.

The demon, it seemed, had not been expecting it, and only barely raised its massive arms in time. Chanyeol’s sword bit deeply into the demon’s skin, a blow that would have cleaved a human man through. Sickly, glowing green pus welled up around the wound, hissing as it hit the ground. Chanyeol made a vague mental note to try not to get bled upon, yanked his sword out, and swung again.

The demon blocked it and backhanded him. Chanyeol felt his flesh sizzle and his cheekbone crunch as he flew back across the circle and hit the ground for the second time that night. Spitting blood, and unable to tell yet if all his teeth were still in place, Chanyeol rolled to his feet and charged back in.

This time, when the demon lashed out, Chanyeol was ready for it. He ducked, letting the blazing hot arm swing harmlessly over his head, and drove his sword point-first into the demon’s back, aiming for where the heart and/or lungs would be on a human. The demon _roared_ in pain and Chanyeol...stepped on something?

He glanced down. It was Sehun’s bow, laying forgotten in the soil. Chanyeol twisted his sword harshly, opening up the wound as much as he could to let the blood flow, and looked over to see where Sehun was, see if he was paying attention. He was, his eyes wide, kneeling protectively over Tao’s body just outside the light of the circle. 

Chanyeol got his boot under the bow, balanced across his instep, just like he did with his sword when he was performing. He flung the bow in Sehun’s direction and had enough time to see Sehun pulling an arrow from his quiver and reaching for the bow before he yanked his sword out and backed away.

“Demon!” he called, more to get its attention than to actually try and threaten or taunt it. It worked, and the demon turned towards him, putting its back to Sehun. Around its side, Chanyeol got a glimpse of Sehun setting arrow to string and drawing his bow as far back as it would go. 

Sehun’s bow was large and recurved, meant to be shot a very long distance, and desperation made him strong. The arrow punched through the demon’s neck, protruding completely out the front side. Its glowing red eyes rolled back, a terrible gurgling keen ripping from its ruined throat, but its body stayed up and moving, lashing out blindly. 

Chanyeol hooked his arms around the thing’s knee and _yanked_ , and it toppled to the ground. Dodging its limbs, he moved around its felled body to its head, lifted his sword high in the air and brought it down.

It took four hard hacks before the demon’s body stilled, and six more before its head was separated from its body. Ichor gushed forth, searing the grass under the body, and Chanyeol stepped back before it could eat through his boots, his breath coming in harsh gasps.

Silence.

The blue light of the warding circle faded as Joonmyun warily stepped inside, inspecting the demon’s body from as close as he dared. “You did it,” he murmured in wonder. “You really...That’s a pit fiend. That’s one of the most powerful demons that can cross into this plane, and you...you killed it.” He suddenly raised his eyes to the other side of the circle. “ _Tao._ ”

Tao was a bloodied, sobbing mess, but he was unmistakably _alive_. Sehun was not much better, his skin blistering where it had been seared, but though his hands were trembling from pain, he was holding Tao with a strength Chanyeol found admirable. 

Joonmyun laid a hand on Tao’s head, and Tao went still and limp in Sehun’s arms.

“Is he - ” Sehun whispered.

“He’ll be alright,” Joonmyun murmured. “I just didn’t want him to suffer any more. He’ll sleep until morning.” He held up glowing hands, lighting Sehun’s face and arms and chest to assess the damage. “You are very injured yourself,” he said, and looked over his shoulder at Chanyeol, who was finding it rather hard to remain standing now that the adrenaline was draining from his body. “Both of you. Come, I have medicine back at the tower.”

The trip back was slower and much less eventful. Chanyeol offered to carry Tao, as Sehun’s arms were burnt almost the entire way up, his thin shirt sleeves seared entirely away, but Sehun only glared and lifted Tao’s body with a tender care that had a familiar lump welling in Chanyeol’s throat. It was the way Minseok protected Lu Han, the way his future brother-in-law looked at his sister, and Chanyeol was reminded rather forcefully that somewhere out there was someone he would some day feel that way about. 

If he could ever find her.

True to his word, the sorcerer had healing draughts for Tao’s ruined back and salve for the burns, and when Tao and Sehun were seen to and Sehun had carried Tao up to his room, it was Chanyeol’s turn. Some whispered words and a gentle touch set Chanyeol’s cheekbone, re-rooted his loosened teeth. He would still have a massive black eye, Joonmyun told him, and though the burns on his arms were not anywhere near as bad as the ones on Sehun, they would still take a few days to heal, even with salve. He was lucky the blow hadn’t caught him up higher, or it might have been a brain injury rather than a mouth injury, and as it was it would be best if he did not sleep tonight, in case there was a concussion.

So Joonmyun made them tea, and Chanyeol sat with him for a while.

“I never even asked,” Joonmyun said as he sipped. “What’s your name?”

Chanyeol had to smile at the familiar question. “Chanyeol,” he said. 

Joonmyun nodded. “You saved all of us tonight,” he said quietly. “Not just Tao, but myself and Sehun as well. You were extraordinarily brave, and to do this for someone you had never met… If you hadn’t been there...” He cut himself off. “Well. I am grateful to you. Is there anything I can do for you?”

Blinking, Chanyeol set down his mug. “What do you mean?”

“I have a great deal of treasure in this tower,” Joonmyun said, “collected over centuries by my family. Or, if you prefer a boon from me personally, there is little that I could not accomplish with enough research and time. What do you want most? I will get it for you.”

Well. That was a _heck_ of an offer. “Can I think about it for a bit?” he asked, possibly a little plaintively. 

Joonmyun smiled at him. “Take your time,” he said. “We have all night.”

So Chanyeol thought about it. Thought about having Joonmyun tell him exactly where his destined was, or show him a vision of her face; thought about asking for a dragon-slaying sword or a charm of invulnerability or even just a better set of armor. But everything he considered felt _wrong_ , felt like cheating. This was his destiny and he was going to do it _right_. 

Then something occurred to him, and any thoughts he had of asking for material things or selfish boons flew from his mind. 

“There is something,” he said quickly, and Joonmyun raised an eyebrow at him. “There’s...deep in the Enchanted Forest on the other side of the mountains to the east, there’s...well. This hare.”

Joonmyun’s second eyebrow raised to match the first, so Chanyeol took a deep breath and explained about Minseok and Lu Han, about the fairy’s curse that had left them with nothing but each other, how deeply entwined they were and how it broke his heart that they could never be together the way Minseok had hinted he would want. “I don’t know if they would choose to both be deer, or both be hares, or both be human, or both go back to the way things were before they met,” he said in a rush, “but they helped me and I just...I want them to be _happy_. Do you think there’s anything you could do for them?”

The sorcerer considered him very carefully. “Because you have asked me,” he said, “I will see what I can do. But are you certain there’s _nothing_ you want for yourself?” He looked Chanyeol up and down. “I mean, I’ve seen a lot of adventurers in my time, and you seem like you’re on a mission.”

Chanyeol bit his lip and considered that. “Some of that burn salve,” he said finally, “and the most detailed map of the western mountains that you have.”

Joonmyun actually started to chuckle. “You’re something else,” he said. “As you wish. And I will find your hare and determine what his wish might be.”

“Thank you,” Chanyeol said, and meant it.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

His new injuries set him back a day, but even with the burns and the black eye, Chanyeol had been in that little town for five days and he decided it was high time he start his search.

The mountains were a daunting prospect, vast and numerous and no doubt difficult to traverse, but Joonmyun’s map was very detailed indeed, and while he was resting Chanyeol had determined a pattern of search. There were three peaks with springs that fed the underground river, so Chanyeol figured his best bet was to begin with those, following the river back and up into the mountains until he found a clue. If no hint of a dragon or a captured damsel was found, he’d expand his search to the neighboring peaks, one by one until he found what he was looking for (or possibly dropped dead from exhaustion.)

He was able, with the small amount of coin he’d earned in the last few days, to purchase some supplies and rent a horse. The horse would likely not be able to take him up into the mountains, but alone he could move much faster than Jongdae’s caravan, so Chanyeol was able to return south, to the cave mouth where he’d collapsed, in just one morning. He began the trip upstream at a much slower pace, keeping his eyes opened for anything that looked burned, or like it may have been crushed under a large foot.

By the time the sun was setting, he was reaching the mountains proper, and true to prediction the horse began having trouble with the incline as it got steeper and steeper. He made camp there, by the edge of the river, thankful that _this_ forest was not Enchanted and that his night was uneventful. Leaving the horse securely tethered to a tree with enough lead to reach the river if she wanted to drink, Chanyeol set out the next morning on foot.

For three days, Chanyeol searched. He followed each branch of the river to its spring, examined the area around it for miles in every direction. His black eye was no longer sore, but everything else was, and the total lack of _any_ traces or clues was very discouraging. It was all made worse by his dreams every night, always the same, filled with glimpses of beautiful features that he could never quite piece together into a whole face. So, on the morning of the fourth day, Chanyeol returned to his borrowed horse and rode back to the little town.

Tired, dirty, and very much looking forward to a hot meal, a nice bath and a real bed, Chanyeol stomped into the general store to pay his fee for the horse’s rental. He too exhausted to be paying a lot of attention to his surroundings, and so didn’t realize immediately that there was someone already at the counter making a purchase until they turned, arms laden with parcels, and crashed right into him.

The person made a sharp noise of surprise, tumbling to the ground. Chanyeol reached out instinctively to catch them but stumbled over a fallen parcel and fell himself. Old military training and his newly-jumpy reflexes had him catching himself on his hands and forearms before he could totally crush the person under him.

“Sorry,” he exclaimed reflexively, wincing at the shock to his arms. It was better than falling on some poor unsuspecting sod in full armor, and Chanyeol knew he wasn’t light to begin with, let alone clad in bronze.

“That’s alright,” the person said breathlessly, voice low and smooth as silk and somehow _familiar_ and Chanyeol’s eyes snapped open in surprise. He looked down.

The eyes he dreamed about, dark and wide and kind, stared back up at him curiously. Lips he knew better than his own were softly parted around the remains of a startled gasp. Glossy black hair brushed over soft, round cheeks that were slowly turning pink the more Chanyeol stared, and Chanyeol swallowed hard, because now he had a delicate, heart-shaped face, a cute button of a nose, flawless pale skin to complete his vision.

It was _her_. 

Except, he realized, with a growing sense of shock, _she_ wasn’t a _she_ at all. The person underneath him was small, delicately built, and utterly _beautiful_ , but also very obviously _male_. There was a prominent adam’s apple pressed against the soft skin of his neck, and though his shoulders were narrow, so were his hips. The grip wrapped around Chanyeol’s upper arms was careful but strong, and the body he could feel pressed against his own was too angled, too firm.

Chanyeol’s entire world tipped onto its side.

Long, dark lashes fluttered as the man - the man - under him blinked, and the break in eye contact broke the spell. “It’s my fault,” the man said, and his voice was too deep for his cherubic looks, not as deep as Chanyeol’s own but soothing and melodic. Chanyeol’s heart was galloping like his borrowed horse. “I wasn’t looking when I turned.” His grip shifted slightly, pushing at Chanyeol’s arms. “Can I…?”

Fuck. “Yes, of course, sorry,” Chanyeol babbled, mortified when his voice cracked. He scrambled off the smaller man and knelt to the side, busying himself with gathering up the fallen packages and trying to calm his racing heart, cool his heated face.

What should he even _do_?

He was just so _shocked_.

“You don’t have to -” the man said, and small, pristinely pale hands stilled Chanyeol’s. Chanyeol didn’t realize until that moment that he was trembling. _Some brave warrior you are,_ he thought wryly to himself.

“Hey,” the man said gently, dipping his head to catch Chanyeol’s gaze. His dark brows - too thick to be a woman’s, but striking and perfect on his face - furrowed. “Are you alright? You look like you’ve had a bad day.”

Suddenly, Chanyeol was very, very aware of what a mess he must look, how he must _smell_ , after four days in the wilderness. “I’ve had a bad _month_ ,” he found himself saying truthfully. “But I’m alright.” Those big eyes made the words fall out of his mouth nervously. “I was on my way to the inn to rest.” _You shouldn’t be worried about me,_ he thought, and in the next moment remembered, _wait, I should be worried about_ you. “Are _you_ okay?” he blurted out, rather more suddenly and intensely than was appropriate.

The edges of a smile curled around the man’s plush lips, crinkling up the corners of his eyes. Oh _fuck_. “I’m fine,” he assured Chanyeol, and the amusement in his tone made Chanyeol’s stomach do a strange little shimmy. “It was just a little tumble.”

 _That’s not what I mean,_ Chanyeol thought desperately, but he couldn’t find a way to get the words out that didn’t sound insane. The man got to his feet and reached a hand down to Chanyeol.

Chanyeol took it, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. He saw the man’s eyes widen when Chanyeol drew himself up to his full height, head and shoulders above him.

He only came up to Chanyeol’s collarbone.

Chanyeol had never wanted to hold someone so badly.

“Sorry again,” the man said, ducking a courteous little bow. “Have a good evening.”

He made to leave, and panic lanced through Chanyeol’s mind, and before he’d considered his actions he’d grabbed the man’s wrist. “Wait!” he said frantically. The man looked back over his shoulder, his dark eyes wide and surprised. Chanyeol swallowed again and managed to get out, “What’s your name?”

The surprise smoothed out. “Kyungsoo,” the man said softly. And then, after a beat, “What’s yours?”

“Chanyeol,” he replied, a little breathlessly.

A nod, and another ghost of a smile. “Have a good evening, Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo said. 

Then he slipped out of Chanyeol’s fingers, and was gone, leaving Chanyeol staring dumbfoundedly in his wake.


	6. Chapter 6

Once his mind caught up with his circumstances enough to scream _go after him, you fool!_ , Chanyeol did exactly that, racing out of the shop. But he was too late - wherever Kyungsoo had gone, on foot or horseback, he was out of sight now.

The shopkeep, who eyed him with a look that was all too knowing when he came back in, was able to tell him little of use, except that Kyungsoo came in once or twice a month, that he’d been seen entering the town from the west, and that he wasn’t always alone - sometimes there was another man with him, described as taller even than Chanyeol, angry-looking and fearsome. 

Chanyeol paid for his horse, walked to the inn, and rented himself a room all in a daze, reliving the encounter in his mind over and over. Rather than eat in the dining hall with the other patrons, Chanyeol asked for his dinner to be brought to him in his room, and poured over his map while he ate. There were no villages directly to the west, not even any roads. 

There was, however, a mountain.

With the food in his system, Chanyeol’s mind was clearer. He sat back and weighed his options.

Kyungsoo had not looked afraid, or abused. That took some of the urgency away from Chanyeol’s quest. However, there was no telling what his existence was like, if he was, in fact, captured by a dragon. Perhaps the wounds were not physical ones. 

In particular, Chanyeol did not like the way the shopkeep had described the man who sometimes travelled with Kyungsoo. He sounded dangerous. And Chanyeol had heard rumors, tales of dragons taking on human form, so perhaps... 

He’d never heard of a dragon capturing a young man rather than a young maiden, but it was certainly possible, and Kyungsoo was more than beautiful enough to entice any creature. He was _stunning_. And that, in a way, was Chanyeol’s problem.

It had been silly, in retrospect, for him to assume his destiny was female. Looking back, he had never been given any indication of that. It was just that Chanyeol was a _prince_ , the _Crown Prince_ , and no matter which way his leanings it was expected that in the end he would marry a woman, and have children, preferably male ones. A kingdom needed the stability of both King and Queen, of at least one Heir, if not a few options just in case. Kings who never married left power vacuums when they died, and it was _always_ their subjects who suffered for it.

So if Kyungsoo really was his destiny - and judging by the way his breath came short just imagining the other man’s face, Chanyeol suspected he hadn’t been wrong about _that_ part - at best the man could only ever be Chanyeol’s advisor, his secret lover. He would have no choice but to marry another, and lie with her at least once, and to never acknowledge Kyungsoo publicly, never parade him through the streets or pledge vows to him in front of the temple or be able to proudly say, _He is mine_.

After all, his own mother had a female lover for most of his teenaged years, known to the family and the court but not to the people. He’d seen first hand how the politics and jealousies of court life had worn on their relationship, until his adopted aunt had simply left the kingdom one day, shortly after Chanyeol’s sixteenth birthday. She hadn’t been able to handle playing second fiddle to the husband of the woman she loved - even if that husband was the King. And Chanyeol couldn’t blame her, which is why, despite his generally not-picky demeanor when it came to sexual attraction, he’d long ago vowed that he would learn to love the woman he married, and never put either his wife or a lover in that position.

He’d never expected to fall for a man long before ever meeting his future wife. And the circumstances - the _dreams_ \- made him think it would be a mistake not to pursue this. There was more going on here than simple matters of the heart. This was _destiny_ , but for the first time, the thought had him apprehensive rather than excited.

It made him uneasy, having the proverbial rug pulled out from under him like this, but Chanyeol was nothing if not determined, so he vowed that he would bathe, and get his clothes washed, and the next day he would head west into the mountains to search. 

And every day after that, if that’s what it took, until he found Kyungsoo again.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

The particular mountain directly west of the town was steeper and drier than the mountains he’d just spent four days searching, which made some semblance of sense, considering this one did not have a river running down it. Chanyeol set out at dawn, but it wasn’t until around noon that Chanyeol’s search bore any fruit, in the form of an enormous clawed footprint, half-pressed into a place where the ground was a little bit softer.

Chanyeol himself was not a tracker, but he’d learned a thing or two from huntsmen, and while he had no idea how to tell how old the footprint was, he could guess at the dragon’s size from the spread of its toes. Large. Possibly as tall as two stories; certainly taller than one. Not the _most_ gigantic monster he’d heard tell of, but big enough.

The other thing he could easily decipher from the track was direction, so he made note of where he was and set off in the direction the toes were facing. If nothing came of that, he thought, he would double back and head in the direction the dragon had been coming from.

He saw no more tracks, but there were some crumpled bushes, some snapped branches that encouraged him. Around midafternoon, he stopped to rest in the shade of a copse of trees.

He’d just finished eating some rations and was wondering where he could refill his water skin when he heard something not a bird call break the quietude of the forest. It was soft, and low, and distant, and sounded an awful lot like singing.

Chanyeol got to his feet and followed his ears.

The song led him deeper into the trees, and as he got closer Chanyeol could tell that the voice was definitely male, and a register that could easily belong to Kyungsoo, low-toned but sweet. The song was in a language Chanyeol did not understand, but the tune was beautiful and haunting, lines of melody that sent goosebumps up his arms and down the back of his neck.

When he was close enough, Chanyeol realized that there was indeed a spring on this mountain, because there Kyungsoo was, bathing in it.

Chanyeol froze.

He hadn’t meant to peep, but...he couldn’t look away. Kyungsoo was covered enough, anyway; the spring seemed to be shallow but he was pretty clearly kneeling in it, his back to Chanyeol and only the vaguest outline of his folded legs visible beneath the surface of the water. Leaning silently against the trunk of a handy pine tree, Chanyeol let Kyungsoo’s soft voice wash over him and watched him scrub his shoulders with a smile that was probably quite idiotic. Kyungsoo was so _very_ beautiful. 

Chanyeol lost track of time. He came back to himself as Kyungsoo uncurled his legs, his eyes widening as he realized a moment too late that Kyungsoo was standing. Chanyeol caught a glimpse of a small, pert, rounded ass before he screwed his eyes shut and ducked behind the tree trunk, heart pounding.

What the heck was he _doing_?

Hellfire, what he wouldn’t give to put his hands on that skin.

No. Fuck. _Chanyeol_. You are _better than this_.

Disgusted with himself, Chanyeol moved away as silently as he could, refusing to let himself look back and violate Kyungsoo’s privacy any more than he already had. What a terrible way to begin! His mother would be ashamed. His _sister_ would be ashamed. (His father would probably clap him on the back, but he was a notorious pervert so _that_ was no indication of what was ethically correct.)

When he thought he was far enough away, Chanyeol stopped and looked back over his shoulder. He could still see the glimmer of the spring in the distance, but there was no small, pale body standing nearby, no sign of movement at all. He frowned.

“Looking for someone?”

Chanyeol jumped and spun, his hand going instinctively to his blade. But it was Kyungsoo, still wet but fully dressed and cocking an eyebrow at him that made Chanyeol flush head to toe.

“I. No. _Yes_. I mean.” Chanyeol swallowed, hard. “You?”

“Am I looking for someone?” Kyungsoo asked, his eyebrow falling in confusion.

“No, I mean. You. I was looking for you.”

That maddening little smile tugged at the edges of Kyungsoo’s lips again. “Oh, I see,” he murmured. “Well, it appears you have found me.” He ran a hand through his wet hair, pushing it back away from his face. Without his fringe softening his features, he looked older, more masculine. “What can I do for you?”

This was _not at all_ how he was expecting this to go. “Um,” Chanyeol stuttered, sounding like an idiot and hating it. “Let me...let me take you to dinner.”

A blink. “...Are you asking to _court_ me?” Kyungsoo asked incredulously.

“Yes,” Chanyeol said, keeping his voice as steady and confident as he could. “That is exactly what I’m asking.” And then, he saw the opportunity, and took it. “Unless there is someone, or ...some _thing_ , that would stop you?”

His question went unnoticed. “Did you seriously _follow me up the mountain_ so you could ask to _court_ me?”

Why did he have to act like this was so strange? Okay, yes, it _was_ a little strange, but still! “You made an impression on me,” Chanyeol said truthfully. 

Kyungsoo opened his mouth, then closed it again, regarding Chanyeol with an unreadable look. Chanyeol returned his gaze and tried to look heroic, or enticing, or at the very least not terrified.

“What did you mean,” Kyungsoo said finally, “when you said, someone or some _thing_?”

Chanyeol had purposely worded the question to be open-ended - because frankly, he knew nothing about Kyungsoo, for all he knew he wasn’t even attracted to men in the first place - but there was a pointedness to Kyungsoo’s tone that told Chanyeol that Kyungsoo knew there was an underlying purpose to his question. 

Chanyeol couldn’t just come out and say _I had a vision about you induced by a unicorn kiss and I think you might be my destiny_ , nor could he bring himself to ask _seen any dragons lately?_ So instead, he said, “The shopkeep told me you sometimes come into town with another man. I...wanted to be sure I wasn’t overstepping any bounds by asking.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes were bottomless. “You may have overstepped your bounds questioning the shopkeep about me,” he pointed out sharply, and Chanyeol flushed and ducked his head in shame, one hand coming up to rub nervously at the back of his neck. “But,” Kyungsoo continued, his tone softening, “I believe you meant no harm by it.” He cocked his head. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”

Chanyeol’s gaze shot up. “Really?” he asked, hope prickling his chest painfully.

“One meal,” Kyungsoo said, “for a start. I will promise no more than that.” 

The wide, probably very ridiculous grin that spread over Chanyeol’s face could not be helped. Kyungsoo’s lips twitched again in response, making Chanyeol’s grin even wider. “Okay,” he breathed. “That’s - that’s good.”

“On one condition,” Kyungsoo said, freezing Chanyeol’s grin. “Don’t come up this mountain to look for me again. I will come to you.”

Nodding his acquiescence, Chanyeol blurted, “When?”

Kyungsoo studied his face. “Tomorrow night,” he said finally, “at sundown. You said you were staying at the inn, yes?” Chanyeol nodded again. “I will meet you there.”

 _But won’t your dragon mind you coming to see me?_ Chanyeol wanted to ask, but he didn’t dare voice it. “Until tomorrow, then,” he said instead, aiming for polite and genteel but falling short somewhere in the husky and anticipatory range.

“Tomorrow,” Kyungsoo promised. And for the second time, Chanyeol watched him walk away.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

The trip down the mountain went quickly, and Chanyeol didn’t remember most of it. His mind was caught up in overanalyzing everything Kyungsoo had said, every tone of his voice, every quirk of his (rather extraordinarily mobile) eyebrows.

The innkeeper caught him on his way up the stairs to his room, saying that a rather large caravan of travellers had booked him full for the night and would Chanyeol be interested in entertaining them for a while? His cooks needed time to prepare a rather large meal, and he didn’t want any rowdiness to break out in the mean time.

Chanyeol’s first thought was _not tonight, I have too much on my mind_ , but he thought the better of it - his funds were running low, and he would be buying dinner for two tomorrow night. Thinking amusedly that his mother would swoon to see him in a side-of-the-road inn in the middle of nowhere working something that resembled a _regular job_ , Chanyeol accepted, and went up to his room to freshen up and change.

A lifetime of being in the public eye made Chanyeol at ease on a stage, even if most of the time he was making it up as he went along. The inn was small, and many of the patrons were regulars who had seen him before, so he set the tone by joking a little with them, asking for advice on what he should perform, teasing the little girl who hid behind her mother’s skirts about joining him on the stage for a song. With that easy, comfortable atmosphere, Chanyeol beat out a simple tattoo on a borrowed drum the innkeep happened to have hanging about and sang the songs of his homeland, encouraging the crowd to sing or clap along, even though they rather butchered his country’s heirloom language.

When he set the drum down and reached for his sword, some of the regulars started to holler and cheer, knowing what was coming. Grinning at them, he drew the sword, tossed the scabbard to the side, bowed and launched into his sequence. It wasn’t quite so dramatic without Jongdae’s drumbeat behind it but it got gasps and exclamations from the audience anyway.

A signal from the innkeep told him he’d stalled for long enough, so Chanyeol finished his little show with the same song he’d sung the first night, that ancient love song he’d heard all his life. As before, his eyes fluttered closed as he sang, and behind them he saw Kyungsoo’s eyes, his beautiful face. _I see the magic of a moonlit night in your eyes,_ he sang, the meaning of his words known only to him. _Your breath is the wind that makes my heart soar._

The last note rang out, and with it, applause. Chanyeol opened his eyes.

Kyungsoo stared back at him.

Chanyeol froze, blinking in shock, forgetting that he should be bowing, collecting his money, or at least getting off the stage. He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, or that he’d just spent so much time imaging Kyungsoo’s face that his imagination had bled into reality. But no, the longer he stared, the more Kyungsoo’s grin spread across his face, lips so thick and curved that even stretched into a smile, the cupid’s bow remained intact, creating the illusion that his smile was shaped like a heart. He’d only ever seen that smile once before - when he’d been about to drown and reaching for it had saved his life.

He kind of felt like he was drowning right now.

A tug on the hem of his tunic brought him back into reality, made him look down. It was that little girl, shyly holding out a coin, glancing back at her mother to confirm this was what she was supposed to be doing. Charmed, Chanyeol knelt in front of her, taking the coin with a murmur of thanks and brushing a gallant air-kiss over the backs of her knuckles. Flushed and giggling, the little girl scuttled back to her mother and hid her face.

Dropping the coin in his basket, Chanyeol started making his rounds, chatting distractedly with the patrons and trying not to be too obvious about glancing at the corner booth where Kyungsoo sat alone. He was fairly certain he failed at the being-not-obvious thing, since every time he looked up those dark eyes were on him, piercing right into his heart.

He plotted his path through the room such that Kyungsoo’s table was the last he reached. And Kyungsoo even held out a coin, a glint of humor in his eye, but Chanyeol gently pressed it back into his hand. “Keep it,” he murmured. “I’d likely end up spending it on you anyway.”

The smile dropped off of Kyungsoo’s face, and Chanyeol winced internally, because he’d overstepped his bounds again. But then, Kyungsoo nodded to the seat across from him in clear invitation, and Chanyeol took it without hesitation, quickly pouring his night’s take in his beltpurse without bothering to count it.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight,” Chanyeol said, hoping his tone didn’t sound accusatory. If anything, he was _delighted_ to be meeting with Kyungsoo so soon, but it was definitely a surprise.

“Well,” Kyungsoo said archly, “since you caught me so off-guard this afternoon, I thought I would return the favor.” Chanyeol immediately blushed. “I must admit, though, I was not expecting to find you on the stage. I hadn’t taken you for a performer.”

Chanyeol shrugged. “It’s not...It’s kind of a new thing,” he explained clumsily. “I travelled with a troupe for a very short while. They needed an extra hand, I agreed, and when they left I kept doing it. Have to pay my room and board somehow.” _And most of my skills are not of much use in a small town like this,_ he thought but did not say. “It was this or wash dishes, and I have absolutely _no_ idea how to wash dishes.”

That won him an actual laugh, short but precious. Chanyeol wished he could bottle it; that sound would get him through many a terrible day. “It’s not so difficult,” Kyungsoo said, “but I suspect this pays more, and you seem to enjoy being in the spotlight.” He cocked his head. “To be honest, I supposed you would not need to work. Forgive me for saying so, but you have a very lordly bearing. I thought you might be a knight.”

The way he worded it - _forgive me for saying so_ \- made Chanyeol think he didn’t mean that as a compliment. “I trained with the army for a few years, but I haven’t been knighted, no,” he said carefully. And it was true - it was tradition that princes be knighted as a part of their rank, but Chanyeol had refused the title. He hadn’t gone through the full, rigorous training of a knight, he wasn’t versed in their ideology, he hadn’t yet served on the battlefield. Taking the title without doing the work seemed like a slap in the face to the men who had. “And you’re right - I do enjoy the stage, even if I don’t have much of a gift for performance.”

“No,” Kyungsoo agreed, “you were quite unpolished.” His smile softened the insult. “But the performance was charming, nonetheless.”

Kyungsoo signalled for the barmaid, and Chanyeol asked, “What about you? Do you work?”

Unreadable eyes glanced up at him. “I have no need to work,” Kyungsoo said shortly, “but sometimes, I have been known to come to this very tavern and volunteer in the kitchen.” 

Chanyeol blinked in surprise. That was... _adorable_ , actually. “Really? Why?”

A shrug of narrow, delicate shoulders. “It’s entertaining,” he murmured. “They have access to a wider variety of ingredients than I do, at the trader’s caravans come through regularly. And I enjoy cooking for many people at once. It’s much more satisfying than cooking for two.”

The barmaid arrived to take their order, and Kyungsoo, to Chanyeol’s surprise, ordered for both of them, some local dish Chanyeol had not heard of before and was until now not brave enough to try.

When she was gone, Chanyeol said, “So you do live with him. The man the shopkeep described to me.”

That small, mysterious smile tugged at the corner of Kyungsoo’s mouth. “He fancies himself my protector,” he said, with an eyeroll that was as exasperated as it was fond. “I tell him that he is my keeper.”

Chanyeol really didn’t like the sound of that. “Do you _need_ protection?” he asked, with more than one intent behind the question.

Kyungsoo’s mysterious expression did not change. “Some would think so,” he murmured. “Why, are you offering?”

Chanyeol met his eyes unflinchingly. “I am at your service for anything you might require,” he said, solemnly and truthfully. The smile faded from Kyungsoo’s expression, replaced by something else entirely. “But,” Chanyeol amended, “I suspect you are much more capable than your… your figure, would suggest.”

Resting his elbow on the table, Kyungsoo dropped his chin into his hand and regarded Chanyeol curiously. “Interesting,” he said. “I wonder what brings you to that conclusion.”

 _Because you live with a dragon and seem to treat him as a normal man_ , Chanyeol thought. _Because every word out of your mouth has me both off-balance and swooning_. Out loud, though, he said, “Because you chose to bathe alone in the wilderness, and even draw attention to yourself with song, without any fear.” Kyungsoo’s eyes widened, and a flush stole up his cheeks, and Chanyeol realized with a start that he’d just given away the fact that he’d been peeping. Hellfire. “You have an extraordinarily lovely voice, by the way,” he said, half because it was true and half to try and save his dignity.

“Thank you,” Kyungsoo said, his eyes dropping to the table. It was the first sign of shyness Chanyeol had seen, and it was utterly charming.

They sat in silence for a moment, Chanyeol wracking his brain for something witty to say while simultaneously trying not to be too obvious about the way he was taking in Kyungsoo’s every detail. The urge to reach out and take Kyungsoo’s hand in his own, to intertwine their fingers, was quite strong, but Chanyeol was very aware of the line Kyungsoo had drawn between them, and hesitant to cross it for fear of putting the other man off. He hadn’t come all this way just to have his destiny foiled by his own boorishness.

A smile suddenly quirked Kyungsoo’s lips, his eyes fixed on something over Chanyeol’s shoulder. “You have an admirer,” he murmured. Chanyeol turned to see where he was looking, and found the bright blue eyes of the little girl fixed on him curiously. She was a precious little thing, and Chanyeol couldn’t help but grin at her and wave, making her duck her head shyly again.

He turned back to find Kyungsoo watching him. “She’s so cute,” he said, as if to explain his somewhat less-than-manly behavior. Kyungsoo’s smile deepened. “Do you like kids?”

Kyungsoo shrugged. “I haven’t had much occasion to interact with them, to be honest,” he said lightly. “You seem to.”

“I love kids,” Chanyeol agreed. “They see so much more than adults do.”

The conversation was easier after that, moving from children to people in general, their idiosyncrasies, their flaws and strengths. Though neither of them brought up their pasts, their histories, anything personal - and in fact, Chanyeol was fairly certain they were both studiously avoiding the subject - he did learn quite a bit about Kyungsoo’s personality just from observing him and listening well to both his words and the way he said them. Chanyeol quickly figured out that Kyungsoo was an observer, not a talker, but with a little coaxing he managed to get the smaller man to open up a little, to explain how the world looked through his eyes, and through that found him shrewd and wise, slow to judge, and adept at finding humor or irony in everyday life.

Every new little tidbit he learned made his heart swell further, bursting with fondness. Kyungsoo, at least so far, seemed to be everything he could ask or hope for in a partner. It was hard not to imagine him on the throne beside Chanyeol, tempering Chanyeol’s impulsiveness with his caution and helping him to logic through tough decisions. He would make an excellent Queen.

The thought made Chanyeol’s growing fondness bittersweet, because it could never be.

They were halfway through their meal when Chanyeol felt a hand clap down on his shoulder and jumped in his seat, twisting to face the threat. But it wasn’t a threat, it was Sehun, of all people, grinning amusedly at his reaction. Behind him hovered a tall young man, black-haired and sharp-eyed, and it took Chanyeol a beat too long to realize this must be Tao. He hadn’t actually gotten a good look at his face, before.

“Well,” he said, “this is a surprise!”

“Scoot over,” Sehun demanded, and Chanyeol did so, watching as Tao murmured a polite question to Kyungsoo asking him to do the same. They sat, Sehun with Chanyeol and Tao opposite, and Chanyeol checked to see if Kyungsoo was alright with this development. He seemed a bit put-out by the interruption, so Chanyeol made introductions in an attempt to ease the awkwardness, including formally introducing himself to Tao, since they hadn’t actually spoken before.

“What brings you to town?” he asked when that was done.

“You,” Sehun said, stealing a piece of meat off his plate. Chanyeol slapped his hand, but it didn’t deter him. Brat. “Tao wanted to thank you, and so did I.”

Chanyeol blinked. “What? Why?”

Sehun gave him an extraordinarily judgemental eyebrow. “For _saving our lives_ , idiot.”

Huh? “I did no such thing,” Chanyeol argued.

“You figured out where I had gone,” Tao said from across the table. His voice was soft, unsure; it didn’t match his face. “You defeated the demon that possessed me.”

Chanyeol saw Kyungsoo’s eyebrows shoot up out of the corner of his eye and tried not to flush. “I did not,” he protested. “You’re the one who brought it down.”

“I only had the chance to do so because of your actions.” Sehun put his palm in the middle of Chanyeol’s forehead and shoved. “Accept your accolades, you pain in my ass.”

“Sehun and Joonmyun both agreed that I owe you my life,” Tao said. “So thank you. I wish there was a way I could repay you.”

Chanyeol let out a long breath. “What is it with people in this country and the debt thing,” he muttered. “You don’t owe me anything, Tao. I’m just glad you’re alright.” He cocked an eyebrow. “And a little surprised Joonmyun let you out of his sight.”

Tao blushed and smiled, holding up the crystal pendent he had around his neck. “I’m not out of his sight,” he admitted. “But now that I know what I need to be careful about, he agreed to let me go with Sehun. I was just so _bored_.”

“Your boredom nearly got you killed,” Chanyeol admonished him. “And Sehun. And Joonmyun. And me.”

“Believe me,” Sehun said dryly, “he’s already been wrung out to dry on that one.” His gaze shifted to Kyungsoo. “What about you? Our hero here save you from anything? That seems to be his general style.” He said it in a teasing tone, but Chanyeol could hear the genuine curiosity, and had to refrain from kicking Sehun under the table.

“Not so far,” Kyungsoo said wryly, “but I think he’s trying.” Sehun laughed and Chanyeol turned red and ducked his head and dragged the conversation away from _that_ topic by asking Sehun where they were headed.

It turned out Sehun and Tao were planning to head north, to try and catch up with Jongin and Jongdae. “Tao’s been cooped up behind walls most of his life,” Sehun explained. “It’s high time he sees more of the world. And with Joonmyun’s pendant on him, he’s protected wherever he goes.”

The barmaid interrupted them to get Sehun and Tao’s orders and refill Chanyeol’s and Kyungsoo’s glasses, and conversation from there was mostly Sehun and Tao, chatting about nothing and sniping at each other in a way that made their childhood friendship all too obvious. Kyungsoo remained quiet, but he seemed to be amused, watching them the way he watched everyone. 

At one point, Chanyeol prodded his leg under the table to get his attention, and silently asked him _are you okay?_ Kyungsoo didn’t respond with words, but his smile was reassuring.

Later on, when they were all four finished eating and both Tao and Sehun were into their second tankard of mead, Sehun dragged Chanyeol away from the table and into a corner.

“So,” he said, his eyes bright with curiosity, “that Quest you were on. How’s that going?”

Chanyeol bit his lip, his eyes sliding across the room to look back at Kyungsoo, left alone at the table with a decidedly tipsy Tao. “Working on it,” he murmured.

Sehun followed his gaze. “Ohhhhh,” he realized. “Well. That’s...unexpected?”

“Yes,” Chanyeol admitted. “But not unwanted.” He sighed, his lips twitching into a smile.

“Oh dear,” Sehun muttered. “You’ve got it _bad_.” He leaned against the wall. “Does he know?” he asked.

“Know what?” Chanyeol mumbled. “That I’m royalty, or that I had a vision about him, or that I nearly died at least three times just trying to reach him?” Sehun snorted. “No. He doesn’t know. We’ve only just met, to say those things feels too much like _See what I did for you? You have no choice but to love me._ ” He let out a long breath. “I want him to decide for _himself_ how he feels about me.” 

A warm hand rubbed at his shoulder. “You, my friend, are possibly the most inherently good person I have ever met,” Sehun said softly. Chanyeol blinked at him in surprise. “I hope it doesn’t come back to bite you someday. And I wish you luck with Loverboy over there. He’s cute as a button; you look great together.”

Startled, raucous laughter had them both looking up and across the room. Kyungsoo sat with his back to the wall, a smug little smile on his beautiful lips, and Tao was positively _dying_ of laughter, collapsed onto the table with a red face and shaking shoulders. 

Chanyeol looked back at Sehun to ask what he supposed that was all about, but the words faded when he saw the younger man’s expression. “I think you have it just as bad as I do,” he said instead, amused.

“Shut up,” Sehun grumbled, attempting to wipe the stupid, lovestruck smile off his face and failing miserably. “It’s been years since I’d seen him and I just...It all came crashing back.”

Mildly pleased that the conversation had turned away from him, Chanyeol asked, “Does he know you love him?”

“I’m not certain,” Sehun admitted. “I haven’t gotten up the guts to tell him explicitly, and I think, after everything he put me through, he doesn’t feel like he can ask. But we have time.” He rubbed at his own face in exasperation. “He’s such a little brat, but...I’m never letting him out of my sight again. He’s stuck with me now.” He clapped Chanyeol’s shoulder again. “Come on, let’s get back there before they laugh at us more.”

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

As a bright-eyed and loose-limbed Sehun dragged a red-faced and giggly Tao up the stairs, Chanyeol sat back and regarded Kyungsoo. “I’m sorry about that,” he said quietly. “I wasn’t expecting one visitor tonight, let alone three.”

“No worries,” Kyungsoo assured him, swirling his mead in his glass. He was on his fourth tankard, but the alcohol didn’t seem to affect him in the slightest. “They’re sweet boys. And very in love.”

Chanyeol grinned. “They are awfully obvious about it, aren’t they?” Despite Sehun’s words earlier, as the mead had worked its way into the two younger boys’ systems, it had become increasingly apparent to everyone who wasn’t them how terribly gone on each other they were. And despite the somewhat rocky start, they seemed happy. He wished them luck. “I should retire myself,” he admitted, glancing back at Kyungsoo. “Thank you for joining me tonight.”

Kyungsoo had that measuring look on his face again, like he just wasn’t quite sure what to make of Chanyeol. “Walk me out,” he suggested.

So Chanyeol did so, leaving coin on the table for their meals. “I hope I didn’t make too terrible an impression on you tonight,” he said as they exited out into the cool night air. “I’d...I’d really love to see you again.”

Dark eyes reflected the moonlight as Kyungsoo looked up at him. “You’re not at all what I expected,” he murmured. “I will think on it.”

It wasn’t a no, and that was all Chanyeol could ask for. He grinned, possibly a little bit giddily. “Then goodnight, sir,” he murmured, with a bit of a cheeky bow.

It won him a smile, genuine and beautiful. “Goodnight,” Kyungsoo said in return.

He turned to go, but suddenly, the thought of him walking away just like that struck Chanyeol deep inside his chest. Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed Kyungsoo’s wrist, halting him. 

Kyungsoo turned, with a question in his eyes. Chanyeol wanted to kiss him very badly.

He didn’t. Instead, he lifted Kyungsoo’s fingers to his lips, and brushed a kiss over the knuckles, much more lingering than the little mock-kiss he’d left on the little girl’s hand earlier that night. Kyungsoo’s hand was small but calloused, his skin warm even in the cold of the mountain spring air, and his eyes were shuttered, his expression again made unreadable.

Silently, Chanyeol let him go. Silently, Kyungsoo turned and walked away.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

It wasn’t until the next morning, taking his breakfast in the common room after seeing a very hungover Tao and Sehun off on their journey, that Chanyeol heard the rumor of what more than one person had seen the night before.

A black dragon circling the mountain, stark against the backdrop of the stars.


	7. Chapter 7

For four days, Chanyeol could do nothing but wait. 

With no immediate Quest, and for the first time in his life, no lessons to attend or courtly duties to perform, Chanyeol quickly became bored. He ended up just going around town and asking folk if they needed a hand with their daily tasks, and in this way learned a great deal about what it meant to live outside of a castle, outside of a large city. There was always something to do and the people were always grateful for the help, even if it came from a slightly eccentric stranger.

This is why he was covered in sweat and grime, sleeves tied up to his elbows with a sledgehammer in his hand, when Kyungsoo next found him. Word had gotten around, and the town’s blacksmith had drafted him as a striker, doing the heavy hammering while the actual artisan did the complicated work.

Seeing that he was occupied, Kyungsoo leaned his elbows on the fence and just watched for a while. His presence upset Chanyeol’s concentration, but he did his best, and honestly this work was about strength and accuracy more than craftsmanship.

When the project was in the trough to cool, Chanyeol took his leave of the smith and came over to the fence. “I apologize for my state,” he said, gesturing at his sweaty hair, his soot-streaked forearms. “What can I do for you?”

Kyungsoo smiled at him, beautiful and breathtaking as always. “I was hoping you would come for a walk with me this afternoon,” he said, and Chanyeol’s heart leapt into his throat.

“Of course,” he said, a bit too quickly. “Do you mind waiting a moment for me to clean up?” Kyungsoo said he didn’t, and so Chanyeol hurried back to the inn, changed his shirt for his other shirt (he only had the two at the moment) and wiped off the sweat and dirt. His hair was a lost cause without a full bath, so Chanyeol tied it in a knot at the nape of his neck and left it.

The day was sunny but cool, and the trail Kyungsoo led him on wound around the base of the mountain, shaded by trees. It was extraordinarily pleasant, as was the company, and Chanyeol was just...so _very_ enchanted, by all of it.

He tried, a time or two, to get Kyungsoo to tell him something personal, but the smaller man seemed adept at dodging his questions about his home, his family, his upbringing, his past. Chanyeol wondered if he was an orphan, or perhaps a runaway from a bad home. It made him curious to know if Kyungsoo had maybe _chosen_ to live with a dragon. It would explain why he seemed to be so comfortable with it, anyway.

In any case, he couldn’t press too much, because there was only so much of his own past he could bring up without raising too many questions. He did tell Kyungsoo about his sister, and even confided that he was jealous of her husband-to-be, jealous of way his family treated the other man like their favored son, like their _savior_.

He realized he was ranting and closed his mouth, blushing. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I don’t mean to sound bitter.”

“You sound human,” Kyungsoo told him, amused. “It’s nice to know you’re _capable_ of feeling negative emotions. The way your friends talked about you the other night, you seemed like some kind of untouchable paragon.”

That made Chanyeol laugh. “Hardly,” he grinned. “I just...I’ve been lucky, in my life. Especially now that I’m travelling, I see that I’ve been blessed, to have what I have. There’s no excuse for me to be a jerk.”

“Not many people think that way,” Kyungsoo pointed out. “Many people see their privilege as the _best_ excuse to be a jerk.”

“Well, they’re dumb,” Chanyeol declared, and Kyungsoo laughed.

Hours passed by quickly, and by the time the sun began to set, they were on a ridge on the far side of the mountain, the perfect spot to watch. “I wish I’d thought to bring a picnic basket,” Chanyeol murmured as Kyungsoo tugged him down to sit beside him, their legs dangling over the edge.

Kyungsoo was sitting close enough that his deep grey shirt brushed Chanyeol’s when he shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not hungry,” he murmured. 

He laid his head down on Chanyeol’s shoulder, and Chanyeol stilled.

He was so _warm_.

 _You’re making it weird,_ his logical side said. _Show him you want him to touch you!_

So Chanyeol swallowed hard, and lifted his arm, disrupting Kyungsoo’s rest just long enough to slide his hand around Kyungsoo’s shoulders and tug him gently closer. Kyungsoo resisted him at first, but then gave in, tucking his head against Chanyeol’s chest and resting his hand on Chanyeol’s thigh. Chanyeol was glad Kyungsoo was sitting on his right side, because if he was on the left he probably would have been disturbed by how rapidly Chanyeol’s heart was beating.

They stayed like that in silence for the entirety of the sunset.

“Thank you,” Kyungsoo murmured, as the last sliver of the sun faded out of sight.

Chanyeol looked down at him. “For what?” he asked.

“For chasing after me,” Kyungsoo said. He twisted slightly, turning his face up to Chanyeol’s. Chanyeol swallowed - his lips were _awfully_ close. “For pushing, even when I didn’t want to give you a chance.”

A furrow formed on Chanyeol’s brow. “I hope I didn’t push _too_ hard,” he said, concerned. 

Oh, Kyungsoo was smiling. Chanyeol’s brow smoothed out just from the sheer proximity of that smile. “Not too hard,” Kyungsoo agreed. “Just enough to show me you were serious. I didn’t...You have to admit, it was a bit startling.” His eyes dropped, and he burrowed closer into Chanyeol’s side. “No one’s ever... _pursued_ me before.”

Chanyeol gave his shoulders a squeeze. “That’s because people are blind,” he declared. “You’re well-worth pursuing.”

Kyungsoo didn’t answer, but he did slide his fingers between Chanyeol’s.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Two days later, and Chanyeol was helping a mother take care of her cattle while her husband was away when gasps and exclamations brought them both out into the street. 

Chanyeol’s heart leapt into his throat, because _there it was._ The dragon, massive and black against the morning sky, wheeled in circles around the peak of the mountain to the west. _Kyungsoo’s_ mountain. 

The townspeople were pointing and chattering, but Chanyeol was silent, just staring. It was hard to tell how big it was from this distance. _Big._ Black as night, with an iridescent sheen of green when the sunlight hit it just right. Spikes over the crest of its head, down its back, all along its tail, and a wingspan at least as wide as its body was long.

It was terrifying, and beautiful, and as Chanyeol watched it fly, all he could think was, _Why are you showing yourself now?_ Unless the dragon had only just moved to the mountain, it seemed it had been living there without being seen by the townspeople for years, because everyone seemed surprised as well as afraid.

Chanyeol couldn’t help but see it as a threat, a warning. And there was only one person the warning could be aimed at.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Sitting at dinner that night, Chanyeol felt a hand on his shoulder, and for once did not jump, though his heart did. He turned with a happy greeting on his lips - and stopped dead.

It wasn’t Kyungsoo. It wasn’t even Sehun. It was a man Chanyeol had never seen before, staring at him with unsure eyes. 

“Chanyeol?” the man said, and, what. That voice was _familiar_. Why was that voice…

The man’s nose twitched, and Chanyeol noticed the second man standing behind him, slightly taller and thinner with tawny-gold hair and big doe eyes, and in a flash the pieces fell into place.

“ _Minseok?_ ” he gasped, all but jumping to his feet. The man grinned widely, displaying slightly buck teeth, and Chanyeol threw his arms around him. “You’re human!”

“And I will never take having thumbs for granted again,” Minseok snarked, but his arms wound around Chanyeol’s waist and he squeezed tightly. “Oh, and guess who?”

Chanyeol opened one arm and yanked Lu Han into the hug, laughing when the stag-turned-man stumbled clumsily forward on his thin legs. “You let him talk you into becoming human too, huh?” 

“I wanted to,” Lu Han said, awkwardly trying to find a place for his hands to go. He turned his face up to Chanyeol’s, and his eyes were just a shade closer to animal than they should have been. “I like having thumbs. And arms. But I have no idea how you people manage on only two legs.”

“He won’t stop complaining about missing his antlers, either,” Minseok said, rolling his eyes. He pulled away, but his arm stayed around Lu Han’s waist, half supporting and half possessing. He looked totally comfortable there and Chanyeol was suddenly very, very glad he’d made the choice he did.

Chanyeol ushered them into the booth, and offered to buy them dinner, and exclaimed again over their humanness and how glad he was to see them, and _then_ finally got around to asking how they’d found him and what they were doing there.

“We’re here to thank you, nimrod,” Minseok griped, as Lu Han nodded emphatically. “You just like, waltzed into our messed-up little lives and made them better, for no discernible reason other than you just being a stand-up guy. _Who does that._ ”

Chanyeol propped his head up on his fist. “I don’t know, but more people _should_.”

“There you go again, being too disgustingly _good_ to be real. You’re gonna give Lu unrealistic expectations of humanity.” Chanyeol laughed. “Seriously, though,” Minseok said, his tone quieting, “thank you. We owe you _everything_.”

Oh, for heaven’s sake. “You owe me _nothing,_ ” Chanyeol insisted.

“Bullshit. Look, I went through a lot of trouble to get Stick-Legs over here all the way around those mountains to give you this, so just shut up and take it, okay?” He held out his hand and dropped something into Chanyeol’s. “I badgered your sorcerer friend into making it.”

Chanyeol opened his hand and found a crystal on a silver chain, similar to the one Tao had been wearing. 

“It’s a speaking spell,” Minseok explained when Chanyeol gave him a confused look. He reached into his shirt and fished out a similar necklace. “Hold it in your hand and call my name, and assuming I’m wearing mine, I’ll hear you. Joonmyun’s got one too - same deal.” He dropped the necklace, tucking it back into his shirt. “The magic will last for five years. I expect you to use it.”

Chanyeol blinked. “Did you just literally put yourself - and a powerful sorcerer whom you didn’t even _know_ before I sent him your way - at _my_ beck and call for the next _five years_?”

“Please,” Minseok scoffed. “As if you would ever use it unless you absolutely needed to.”

That shut Chanyeol up, because Minseok was right - and the fact that he knew him that well after their extremely limited interactions was eye-opening.

“Am I boring?” he asked abruptly, suddenly unable to think anything else.

Minseok gave him a confused look, but somehow Lu Han seemed to follow his thought. “I think you _must_ be interesting,” he said, “because even though you consistently do good things, people are always surprised by it. Or at least, Minseok is.” He looked to Minseok for confirmation. “I suppose it must not be very common, for humans,” he guessed.

The smile that quirked Minseok’s face was not at all humorous. “You’re learning,” he said softly, running his hand through Lu Han’s tawny hair.

“Well,” Chanyeol said, unsettled by that, “thank you. And I promise I won’t use it unless it’s necessary.”

“Atta boy,” Minseok praised. “Now, did you say something about food? I’m starving.”

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Minseok and Lu Han stayed in the inn for two days, and Chanyeol thoroughly enjoyed their company, but eventually, of course, they had to leave. “My family probably thinks I’m dead,” Minseok pointed out. “I mean, they never cared all _that_ much for the third son, but I should at least drop by. My little sister will care, at least.”

It got Chanyeol thinking about his own family. He’d been gone for close to two months now, longer than Yura had been gone, and while he thought himself a better man for his journey, he did miss his home dearly. He missed the food, and the music, and the familiar faces and dress; he missed his friends amongst the nobles, the soldiers, the servants; and more selfishly, he missed his extensive rooms, his rich, varied wardrobe, his massive bed.

(He had a flash of laying Kyungsoo out gently on his own bed at home, cheeks flushed and eyes dark, and spluttered, pushing that thought out of his mind before it wandered into shameful territory.)

(His dreams had gotten shameful enough.)

He wasn’t on a timetable, strictly speaking, but he did have duties at home that he was neglecting, and family who were surely worrying. And, knowing Kyungsoo, the decision of whether or not to come with him would be one he would want time to think on, so Chanyeol vowed that the next time he saw the smaller man, he would bring it up. Maybe not ask him straight out, but broach the subject, at least in a hypothetical way. Get a feel for how open Kyungsoo was to the idea, and whether or not his dragon would stop him from leaving.

That was the other knot in this tangle - the dragon. By now, Chanyeol had come to one of two conclusions - either Kyungsoo lived with the dragon of his own choice, and was allowed to come and go as he pleased, _or_ his dragon was not always around, and Kyungsoo’s tendency to show up at random times without warning was the result of him sneaking away whenever he thought he could manage it. Chanyeol was hopeful for the former, but rather suspected it was the latter.

When another two days passed with no word from Kyungsoo, though, it occurred to Chanyeol that he hadn’t seen the smaller man since the last time the dragon had been sighted. Maybe Kyungsoo got _caught_. Maybe he’d been confined, _punished_ , maybe he was chained in a cave or injured or _dead_ while Chanyeol had been down here puttering away!

Drawing in a deep breath, Chanyeol forced himself to calm down. Kyungsoo had waiting four days in the past before contacting Chanyeol, and this was only the afternoon of the fifth. He didn’t want to ruin the tentative trust he’d built by breaking his promise not to come looking for Kyungsoo on the mountain.

He’d give it one more day. One more. If he hadn’t heard from Kyungsoo by tomorrow night, he was going after him.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Sunset of the sixth day came and went, and Chanyeol’s mood was grim. He knew better than to head up the mountain and confront a _black_ dragon at night, but took an early dinner in his room that night, preparing himself to set out at daybreak.

He was all set to head to bed early so he would be as rested as possible when there was a knock on the door. It was one of the barmaids, telling him that his presence had been requested in the kitchen. He nearly snapped at her, but it wasn’t her message and it wasn’t her fault, so instead he sighed and thanked her and pulled his pants back on to go see what the innkeep wanted. 

Except, when he stuck his head in the kitchen, it wasn’t the innkeep at all. Kyungsoo stood by the stove, holding a frying pan and wrapped in a stained white apron with his sleeves rolled up and cooking-heat pinking his cheeks, and the sheer _relief_ made Chanyeol knock-kneed.

“Hello, Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo said, with a bright, sweet smile. “I thought maybe we’d teach you to wash dishes tonight.”

Chanyeol crossed the room in three long strides and wrapped Kyungsoo up in his arms. The wooden spoon in Kyungsoo’s hand clattered to the floor.

“...Chanyeol?” Kyungsoo asked softly, his hands coming up tentatively to cup Chanyeol’s shoulders.

“Sorry,” Chanyeol said, his voice rough. “I...hadn’t heard from you in a while. I was getting worried.”

Kyungsoo didn’t reply, but his grip tightened, and he held onto Chanyeol until the tension bled out of his body. 

Eventually, Chanyeol let him go, taking a step back and trying on a shaky smile. Kyungsoo stared up at him consideringly. 

“Why are you always so worried about me?” he asked. “What are you afraid of?”

Well. “Did you see the dragon circling the mountain a few days ago?” Chanyeol asked carefully.

Instantly, Kyungsoo’s face changed. His whole expression shuttered off, like a door slamming shut in Chanyeol’s face. “I have nothing to fear from the dragon,” he said curtly. “And as long as you stay off the mountain, neither do you.”

Chanyeol wasn’t sure if that was a threat or a warning, but he didn’t like it. “Kyungsoo,” he said, rather desperately. “Please. Tell me truthfully. Where you live... _who_ you live _with_. Are you... _safe?_ ” He took Kyungsoo’s hands. Kyungsoo’s fingers flexed within his, but he didn’t pull away, and eventually, his cold expression softened.

“Oh, Chanyeol,” he murmured. “Yes. I promise you, I am safe. There is nothing on that mountain that would hurt me.”

Chanyeol wasn’t sure he believed that, but he had no choice but to take Kyungsoo’s word for it. Anything less would be terribly disrespectful and he knew it. And the fact that _Kyungsoo_ seemed to genuinely believe it was encouraging.

“Alright,” Chanyeol breathed. “Alright. You said something about dishes?”

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Chanyeol was pretty sure his mother would have actual _fits_ to see him like this, more than half-drenched and up to his elbows in dirty soapy water, but frankly, Chanyeol could not care less, because he was having _fun_. 

Kyungsoo, apparently, was not kidding about enjoying to cook, and seeing him lit up like this, humming to himself and grinning at Chanyeol and bustling around the kitchen, made it easy to understand why he would come all the way into town just to cook. He really, genuinely loved it. 

And Chanyeol really, genuinely, loved _him_.

It was hard not to, honestly. He shone like a star in the dirty little inn, so bright it stole Chanyeol’s breath away. Every time he broke out into song, every time he sidled up to Chanyeol to guide his hands through proper dishwashing methods or let him taste something he was making or just _smiled_ , Chanyeol fell deeper. By the time the dinner rush had died down and the dishwater was drained, Chanyeol knew he had to ask Kyungsoo tonight. 

Exactly _what_ he was going to ask him, and _how_ , was still up for debate. But Chanyeol knew his heart couldn’t take another four or five or _six_ day separation, not without a clear idea of where they stood.

So when Kyungsoo presented him with a plate and a tankard and declared it break time, Chanyeol sat close, and ate, and gathered his thoughts. Kyungsoo noticed his silence - it was quite uncharacteristic - and prodded him. “What’s on your mind?” he asked.

“You,” Chanyeol said with a smile. “You’re always what’s on my mind, these days.”

Kyungsoo blinked at him, and blushed, but he ducked his head, not meeting Chanyeol’s eyes. “You shouldn’t get too attached,” he scolded playfully. “It wouldn’t be healthy for you.”

Chanyeol brushed the back of his hand over Kyungsoo’s hair. “Too late,” he murmured.

His eyes lifting, Kyungsoo met Chanyeol’s gaze, the humor on his lips fading away. “...What does that mean?”

Deep breaths, Chanyeol. “It means I love you,” he declared. “It means I want to stay by your side. Or you to stay by mine.”

Chanyeol should be used to Kyungsoo’s instinctive defense, the walls in his expression he threw up when he wasn’t certain how to respond, or didn’t want his reaction known. But it hurt, to see his declaration met with shuttered, unreadable eyes.

“It can’t,” Kyungsoo whispered. “You can’t...Chanyeol, _no_.”

“Too late,” Chanyeol told him, his tone softening. “I fell for you the moment I saw you.” Which was true, even though that moment was much earlier than Kyungsoo knew. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me if I declared myself then, and I needed to be certain of it myself, first, but...I know it now.” He shrugged helplessly. “I love you.”

“Don’t.” Kyungsoo pulled away, getting to his feet. He busied himself with putting away the dishes that were in the drying rack, but Chanyeol could see his hands were shaking. “Don’t love me. That’s a terrible idea. Stop that right now.” He reached up to put a bowl in the topmost shelf of the cabinetry.

Crossing the room, Chanyeol took the dish from his hand before he dropped it, and reached over his head to put it away. “Why?” he asked softly, looking down. Kyungsoo refused to look at him, his shoulders hunched in on himself. “How could love be terrible?”

A short, ugly laugh pulled from Kyungsoo’s throat. “I’d rather you not find out,” he said, and the plaintiveness of his tone made Chanyeol swallow down his fear and slide his fingers under Kyungsoo’s chin, gently tilting his head up. Kyungsoo’s beautiful eyes were bright with unshed tears, and Chanyeol’s heart cracked open at the sight.

“Do you love me?” Chanyeol asked, pretty sure the answer was going to break him either way.

“I barely _know_ you,” Kyungsoo pointed out, but that wasn’t an answer.

“But _do you love me?_ ”

Kyungsoo’s mouth opened, then closed. He licked his lip nervously. “I...I don’t know, Chanyeol,” he whispered. “I could, in another life.”

Chanyeol ran his thumb over the apple of Kyungsoo’s cheek. “What’s stopping you in this one?”

The smile that twisted Kyungsoo’s features was thoroughly unhappy. “A dragon,” he admitted.

A thousand thoughts raced through Chanyeol’s mind - _how is the dragon stopping you? Does he want you for himself? Is he protective of you? Is he possessive of you? Could we run away, or would I have to fight him for you?_

_Or do you love him?_

He opened his mouth to voice them, but never got the chance, because at that moment, a new, and deep, and wholly unfamiliar voice growled “Get the hell away from him.”

Chanyeol looked up. The man in the doorway was one he had not seen, but he was _large_ , broad-shouldered and taller even than Chanyeol. The look on his face was pure anger, and he strode forward and had his hand on Kyungsoo’s arm before Chanyeol could even react. His hand was massive, totally engulfing Kyungsoo’s thin limb.

Chanyeol’s hand planted itself in the stranger’s chest and shoved. “ _Don’t touch him,_ ” he snarled unthinkingly.

“ _Both_ of you, _stop,_ ” Kyungsoo snapped, alarmed. He pulled away from the stranger’s grip and pushed Chanyeol’s hand back down. “Yifan, what in hellfire are you doing?”

“You have to get away from him, Soo,” the new man spat. “He’s not who he says he is.”

Chanyeol blinked, confusion overcoming his anger for a bare moment. “I haven’t actually said I was _anyone_ , really,” he pointed out.

“Yifan. What are you talking about?” Kyungsoo said, his voice curiously flat.

“I’m talking about _Prince_ Chanyeol here,” Yifan said, “and his Quest to _kill a dragon._ ”

Shocked, horrified, betrayed eyes turned to his, and Chanyeol’s heart dropped into his boots. “It isn’t like that -” he argued, but Kyungsoo wasn’t listening. 

“Is that why you won’t stop asking me about where I live?” Kyungsoo demanded. “Who I live _with_?”

“Kyungsoo -”

“ _Is it true?_ ”

“Sort of!” Chanyeol exclaimed. “I am on a Quest, and I know a dragon is involved somehow, and yeah, those tend to end with the dragon dead. That happens. I wasn’t going to _hunt it down_ but I was prepared for the possibility.” Something terrible occurred to him, and Chanyeol took a step towards the stranger, Yifan. “And only a handful of people know who I am or why I am here, so how did _you_ find out?”

The man’s mouth twisted into a sneer. He pulled something out of his pocket and tossed it on the ground. It landed with a clatter - and a chime.

His heart in his throat, Chanyeol looked down. At his feet was a strand of silver bells, smeared with red.

Sehun.

Time slowed to nothing. Rage roaring in Chanyeol’s ears overtook every last ounce of sense, and he reached for the closest thing at hand - the cast-iron frying pan, still filled with hot oil. He grabbed it and swung.

Yifan’s arms came up to block, but the pan was stopped before it reached its destination. Burning-hot cooking oil splattered all over both Yifan and Kyungsoo, raising welts on both men’s skin. Chanyeol realized too late that Kyungsoo had blocked his attack, guarding Yifan with his body. The pan connected with his slim shoulder, tearing open fabric and skin with a sick sound.

The pan clattered to the ground from numb fingers. 

_What have I done?_

He found out in the next moment, when Kyungsoo pushed between them, putting Yifan protectively behind him despite the fact Yifan was twice his size. Chanyeol opened his mouth to beg forgiveness, but he didn’t get the chance.

“Do not come near me again,” Kyungsoo hissed, utterly furious. “And you’d do well to stay away from the mountain entirely. Take your dragon-killing fantasies and _get out of my life._ ” 

Chanyeol watched him slide his fingers into Yifan’s as he said the word _dragon_ , and suddenly, it fell into place. The man the shopkeep had described, that was Yifan. 

_Yifan was the dragon._

“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol cried, half in warning and half in despair. 

It was too late. They were gone.

Chanyeol leaned heavily against the counter, his mind a blur of confusion and horror. His gaze landed on the red-stained bells, and his hand slipped under his shirt to grasp the pendant Minseok had given him.

“Joonmyun,” he said aloud, vaguely aware that his voice was shaking terribly. “Joonmyun, please check on Sehun and Tao, I think something might have happened to them.”

He heard Joonmyun’s response, but didn’t comprehend it, because there was suddenly screaming from outside. 

Chanyeol raced outside just in time to see a massive black dragon disappear into the sky with a pale shape riding on its back.


	8. Chapter 8

Chanyeol did not sleep that night. 

He realized, upon numbly attempting to clean up, that there was blood on the frying pan. _Kyungsoo’s_ blood. 

He realized, upon picking up the bells and examining them, that the red on them was _not_ blood. It was fabric, canvas threads caught between the links, fabric he recognized as being from Jongdae’s wagon. He was not sure if that made him feel better or worse.

He did feel a little better when Joonmyun got back to him, his voice calming but confused in Chanyeol’s ears. _They’re fine, Chanyeol. They found your travelling friends and they’re fine. What made you think they weren’t?_

Chanyeol thanked him, but he couldn’t formulate an answer.

He made it most of the way up the stairs before the adrenaline wore off and the despair kicked in, and barely managed to get into the privy before throwing up the lovely dinner Kyungsoo had made for him. Shakily, he cleaned himself up, and stumbled into his room with his hand already around his pendant.

“Minseok,” he said, because he had no idea what else to do. “Minseok, are you there?”

No response at first, but then a little shuffling noise, and a now-familiar voice. _We’re here, Yeol,_ Minseok said, sounding a little breathless. _What do you need?_

“Advice,” Chanyeol whispered, sinking to the floor with his back to the bed. “I’m sorry, I know I said I’d only use it for emergencies, but I don’t...I don’t have anyone else.”

 _You have us!_ That was Lu Han, and his cheery tone brought the faintest trace of a smile to Chanyeol’s face. _What happened?_

So Chanyeol told them everything. Other than the occasional shocked noise, they let him talk, and it all poured out, not just the actual events but his fears, his devastation - his _shame._

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I regret attacking him now, even if...But that was no excuse. I’m - I’m not as good a man as everyone believes.”

 _Chanyeol,_ Minseok said firmly, _you’ve been so caught up in the possibility that you might have to fight the dragon, that you totally forgot that dragons are_ tricksters, _too. Yifan calculated every move of that encounter to make you look bad in front of Kyungsoo. You fell for it_ because _you are an honest and good person. You have nothing to be ashamed of._

Chanyeol wasn’t so sure about that. “What do I do now?” he asked softly.

_You’ve got two choices, basically. You let them go, or you chase after them._

Frowning, Chanyeol pointed out “But Kyungsoo said - ”

 _I don’t give a rat’s ass what Kyungsoo said. Kyungsoo didn’t let you have ten words to defend yourself. Listen, I know you well enough to know that you will regret this for the rest of your life if you leave it like this. You love him, and right about now he probably thinks that was a lie._ Chanyeol moaned in despair. _Shut up and listen, you big baby. At the very least, you need him to know it was real. Maybe he’ll still choose to stay with Yifan, you can’t make that decision for him. But he should at least understand what he’s giving up before he makes that choice. And if you convince him, and he still chooses to stay, then fuck it. You’re too good for that shit anyway._

 _Wow,_ Lu Han said. Chanyeol could practically hear his eyes getting big. _You’re really smart, Minseok._

 _Glad somebody appreciates me,_ Minseok grumbled. _Think about it, Chanyeol. Don’t go up there tonight, that’s suicide. But in the morning...just. Think about it._

So he did. He thought about it all night, dozing off fitfully for only an hour or so before sunrise woke him. Soon after, he set off - sleepless and unable to eat, without his armor or even his sword. He wasn’t going to be fighting anyone; to bring them would be to present himself as a threat.

It took two hours to get to the spring where he’d seen Kyungsoo bathe. It was his only starting point. But when he got there, of course, there was no Kyungsoo, no dragon footprints, no trail, no nothing. Exhausted, Chanyeol sank to the ground with his back to a tree and contemplated what he should do next. It seemed hopeless.

A flash of purple in the corner of his vision was the only warning he got that there was something else there before he felt something hit him in the cheek.

“Ow,” he murmured, rubbing at it and looking down to see what had just bounced off his face. It was an acorn.

_“Where the hell have you been?”_

Chanyeol blinked, and looked up.

“Baekhyun?” he asked incredulously.

The fairy pelted him with another acorn. “You’re the worst Adventurer ever!” he fumed, flying right up into Chanyeol’s face. “You should have been here _weeks_ ago!”

Chanyeol was too tired, too despairing, to deal with Baekhyun’s shrill accusations. “I did exactly what you told me to do,” he mumbled. “And here I am.”

“You went the wrong way!” Baekhyun landed on his upturned knee and sat down, folding his arms and legs petulantly. “I told you to go _west_.”

Wait. What? “You told me to go towards the setting sun,” Chanyeol argued.

“ _Everyone_ knows the sun sets in the west!”

“The sun sets at fourteen degrees _north_ west, you little - ” Chanyeol cut himself off. This argument was both pointless and unproductive. “Look, fine, I made it, okay? Could you please just tell me what the absolute _fuck_ I am supposed to do now?”

Baekhyun snorted. “Kill the dragon and rescue the prince, obviously.” He eyed Chanyeol’s dirtied, flimsy clothes judgmentally. “Though I’m not really sure how you plan to do that without a weapon.”

Chanyeol’s eyes fluttered closed. “I’m not going to kill Yifan,” he muttered. He’d made up his mind on that last night. 

Baekhyun stared at him.

“...What. No. _What._ ” The flurry of wings and the breath of shifted air across his nose made Chanyeol open his eyes. Baekhyun was staring at him from less than a hand’s-width away, his eyes wide. “Oh my stars, you are an absolute _idiot_.”

Something uneasy stirred in Chanyeol’s chest. His brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“Yifan isn’t the dragon. _Kyungsoo is._ ”

Chanyeol stared back.

“No,” he said, rather stupidly. 

Baekhyun gave him the most judgemental look he had ever had the misfortune to receive.

“But. _No,_ ” Chanyeol insisted.

His mind started to fit the pieces together. 

His first vision, equally of eyes and lips as it was of fire and scales.

Kyungsoo’s utter lack of fear.

His unwillingness to talk about his past.

The way he came and went without any warning.

His protectiveness over Yifan.

“That can’t be... _what._ ”

“Do you get it now?” Baekhyun asked impatiently. “Hellfire, you’re so _slow._ Look, you know what you have to do. Get your ass back down to town and get yourself a sword, and go rescue Yifan from that beast.”

The image of Kyungsoo’s bloodied shoulder, his betrayed expression, flooded Chanyeol’s mind. Every fiber of Chanyeol’s being revolted.

“I’m not going to kill Kyungsoo!” he exclaimed, horrified. “ _I love him!_ ”

Baekhyun paused mid-air.

“Wait,” he said incredulously. “You do? For real?” Chanyeol nodded emphatically. “Huh. That’s a twist.” He flapped a tiny, pale hand dismissively. “Well, hey, that works too! I don’t really care how you separate them, just as long as you get Yifan away from that thing.”

The last piece of the puzzle snapped into place.

“This isn’t about my Quest at all, is it?” Chanyeol asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “This was _never_ about me. This is all about you. You have a crush on Yifan.”

Baekhyun looked surprised - maybe even a little ashamed? - but he recovered quickly. “Maybe it is! But hey, Princeyeol, you still owe me one, remember?”

Chanyeol snorted. “For vague advice that didn’t even help me?”

“It’s not my problem if you didn’t interpret it correctly! _You owe me._ ” He jabbed Chanyeol in the cheek to emphasize his point. “Get Kyungsoo to leave Yifan, or vis-versa, and we’re even. Got it?”

“Does he even know you exist?” Chanyeol asked incredulously.

Baekhyun huffed insultedly. “You let me worry about that part, cheeky. Now listen, and try not to get it wrong this time. Go half an hour that way - ” and he pointed, “ - until you come to a wide clearing, and then walk straight _up_ the mountain, towards the peak. That’s where you’ll find them. _Don’t mess up._ ” 

He winked out of existence in a puff of purple and pink sparkle.

Chanyeol groaned and dropped his face into his hands.

Kyungsoo was the dragon. 

_Kyungsoo._ Was the _dragon._

He very seriously considered calling to Minseok again, because he needed someone to tell him what he should do with this information. But the crystal was meant as a failsafe for emergencies, not a metaphysical _carrier pigeon,_ so Chanyeol stayed his hand.

No wonder Kyungsoo had looked so betrayed. Chanyeol had thought it was because he saw Chanyeol’s Quest as a threat to Yifan, not because it was a threat to _himself_.

And also, no wonder Yifan was so angry, so determined to get Kyungsoo away from him. Clearly, the two of them cared very much for each other, despite the fact that Yifan was human and Kyungsoo…

...was a goddamned _dragon._

“Okay,” Chanyeol murmured aloud in the silence of the forest. “Dragon. Kyungsoo. Got it. I have absorbed that fact and am moving on.” He hadn’t, actually, but saying it aloud like that made it easier to pretend. “So what does this change?”

He frowned.

“Does it actually change _anything?_ ”

It did, of course it did. It changed everything.

Except...it didn’t change the fact that Chanyeol was in love.

He poked at the idea, trying to make it collapse, fall apart. He looked at the situation from as many angles as he could manage. He brought the idea into his mind and tested it, savored it, attempted to find a place for it in his view of reality and his plans for the future.

Yeah. He was still very, very much in love with Kyungsoo.

“Okay then,” Chanyeol said, feeling stronger and more energetic than he had all morning. “I guess now I just have to go prove it.”

He got up and started on his way.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

It took him two more hours of walking before he finally reached the cave.

It was massive, and dark, and very high up the mountain, partially obscured by the sparse tree cover and facing away from the valley where the village lay. It wouldn’t be visible from the ground, and actually was barely visible from right in front of it. If Chanyeol hadn’t been given explicit direction, he never would have found it.

Entering the cave was something he was not quite brave enough to do, and he thought it would come across as presumptuous at best and outright hostile at worst, so instead he stood outside the cave and called out Kyungsoo’s name.

It was not Kyungsoo who emerged, but Yifan, dressed in beautiful and very appropriate dragonscale armor and carrying a sword that was nearly as tall as he was. “You’re not welcome here, Prince,” he snarled, advancing.

Chanyeol dropped to his knees, bowing his head. The action brought Yifan up short, his expression melting into confusion. “I know,” Chanyeol said. “Please, I’m unarmed. I mean no harm to either of you. I just want to speak to him.”

_**Are you sure about that?** _

It was a soundless whisper in Chanyeol’s mind, and Chanyeol realized he recognized that peculiar voiceless voice. He’d heard it in his visions, in his dreams. It only solidified for him what he already knew.

“I’m sure,” he called, raising his voice to carry well into the cave. “Kyungsoo, please.”

And Kyungsoo emerged.

Because he had been at least somewhat prepared for it, Chanyeol was able to halt his urge to bound to his feet, to reach for the sword that wasn’t there. But he was unable to stop his eyes from going wide as a massive black dragon slunk out of the cave, lifting its head and standing tall as soon as it had cleared the overhang. It came forward, circling Chanyeol in what he assumed was supposed to be a threatening way.

Chanyeol was breathless, and his heart was pounding, but neither was from fear.

 _ **You wanted to speak to me,**_ Kyungsoo said in his mind. Though there was no voice, the cadence of it was familiar. _**Speak.**_

He’d rehearsed this in his mind a dozen times on the walk up the mountain, but looking into a face that was as large as his entire body, Chanyeol’s mind went totally blank.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could think to say.

The dragon snorted disdainfully, sending a wave of heat over Chanyeol’s face. Oh. Fire-breathing. He’d kind of forgotten that part. 

_**Is that it?** _

“No,” Chanyeol said truthfully, “but it’s the most important part.”

Kyungsoo dropped his head down, pushing it right into Chanyeol’s space, close enough to touch. His eyes were slit-pupiled, but otherwise exactly the same - dark, wide, round - and looking into them, Chanyeol found his voice.

“I’m sorry you had to find out that way,” he said, “and I’m sorry I attacked Yifan, it was wrong of me. I’m sure you think my confession to you last night was a lie, and I’m sorry about that, too, because it wasn’t. Last night, when I said I loved you, I meant it.” He took a deep breath. “Right now, I’m telling you that I _still_ love you. I mean that, too.”

The dragon blinked at him, surprised. Surprise looked very silly on a dragon face. _**You lie.**_

“Never,” Chanyeol assured him. “I might not say everything, but I would never lie.” Tentatively, he reached up a hand, pressing it to the dragon’s snout. The scales were smooth and warm. “It’s not exactly...conventional, but I don’t want to give you up because of a little misunderstanding like that.”

Was it his imagination, or was Kyungsoo pushing into his touch? He rubbed his hand up the bridge of the dragon’s skull, caressing, and yes, Kyungsoo was definitely leaning into it.

 _ **Sure,**_ Kyungsoo murmured. _**One little misunderstanding. Oh, and the giant complication of us being two different species.**_

Chanyeol shrugged. “You’re a shapeshifter, are you not?” he pointed out. Kyungsoo was ducking his head like he wanted Chanyeol’s hand between his horns, so Chanyeol stood and reached up, rubbing firmly between them. Huge, liquid eyes fluttered shut. “I think we can figure it out.”

“You can’t seriously be considering this.” That was Yifan, standing near Kyungsoo’s flank and looking between them with distress on his face. It made him look younger, less menacing. “What, do you think you’re going to _move in_ with us?”

Chanyeol swallowed at the pain in his tone. “I’m not trying to replace you, Yifan,” he said earnestly. “Whatever you are to Kyungsoo, I’m not...That’s not why I’m here.”

 _ **He’s my ward,**_ Kyungsoo explained. _**I found him abandoned at the foot of the mountain as a babe, and raised him. Now that he is grown, he seems to think this gives him the right to dictate my life.**_

Yifan huffed. “I’m just trying to _protect you,_ ” he exclaimed. “You’re possibly the least threatening dragon _ever._ ”

_**You waste your life away, stuck here with me.** _

This was clearly an old argument, and Chanyeol could plainly see both sides. “Yifan,” he said, taking a step closer to the taller man. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but...I promise you, I would give anything and everything to see Kyungsoo safe, dragon or no. You don’t have to worry about him.” Kyungsoo’s head twisted around, nudging at his arm; instinctively Chanyeol reached around to stroke his cheek, like he would with a horse. “But no, I was not thinking about moving in, unless that is what Kyungsoo really wants. I was actually...I was more hoping Kyungsoo might agree to come home with me.”

 _ **That is quite presumptuous,**_ Kyungsoo murmured wryly. 

“I know,” Chanyeol said apologetically. “But as Yifan so dramatically pointed out, I _am_ a Prince. I have a kingdom to run, well, half of one anyway.” He smiled softly, his fingertips scritching along the base of one of Kyungsoo’s spines. “I miss my family, my people, and I have a duty to them. I’d leave it all behind in an instant if you asked me to, but I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that.” He sighed, leaning a bit on Kyungsoo’s warm neck. “I wish I could ask you to be my Queen, to be honest. If you were female, I’d do it in a heartbeat. As it stands, though, you may have any position you wish. Personal advisor, or a Minister, or any position in the household. Or, if you’d prefer not to be so close to the action, there’s a barony with no Baron that has a large castle and lots of space, and is close enough that I could come to visit you often.”

A slow blink of huge eyes. _**You’ve been thinking a lot about this,**_ Kyungsoo said in surprise.

Chanyeol smiled at him, rubbing at the back of his head in embarrassment. “Since I met you,” he admitted. “Well, no, to be completely honest, since _before_ I met you.”

“Baron Kyungsoo,” Yifan murmured, a trace of a smile twitching at his lips. “It does have a pleasant ring to it.”

 _ **Hush, you,**_ Kyungsoo scolded, prodding Yifan with one winged limb. _**Chanyeol, that is...quite an offer. I will take a few days and think on it.**_

Hope raced through Chanyeol’s veins. “That’s all I can ask for,” he assured Kyungsoo. “Should I - do you want me to leave?”

 _ **Hmm.**_ Kyungsoo paced in a half-circle around him, then abruptly laid down in the clearing, his body curled around where Chanyeol stood. He dropped his head onto his front claws and regarded Chanyeol with a familiarly unreadable look. _**Not just yet. Sit, and tell me of your kingdom.**_ His brow ridge raised, as if there was an eyebrow there. _**I will need more information before I make my decision.**_

“Gladly,” Chanyeol said, relieved that he wasn’t being sent away. He sat, and Yifan did the same, leaning against Kyungsoo’s flank with his arms crossed.

Chanyeol talked until the sun set.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Kyungsoo - back in his small, delicate-looking human form - found him again a few days later, as promised. Chanyeol’s heart leaped painfully in his chest at the sight of him.

Taking his leave of the family he was helping today - he had been watching some young children while their mother did chores - he came over to Kyungsoo and, on a whim, took his hand and kissed the knuckles. Kyungsoo let him, which Chanyeol took to be a Good Sign.

“Have you made your decision?” he asked breathlessly, settling Kyungsoo’s hand in the crook of his elbow as they began to walk.

“I believe I have,” Kyungsoo murmured. “I have distanced myself from humanity, Chanyeol, and that was purposeful. Too many young heroes see a dragon as something to defeat, something to conquer. To tie myself up in a human kingdom is to invite trouble.” Chanyeol held his breath, watching Kyungsoo’s eyelashes flutter and the sun reflect off his black hair. He’d never noticed - it was tinged green in the light, just like his scales. “But, I came to the realization that if I stay where I am, Yifan will never leave my side. He is older even than you, Chanyeol, terribly curious, terribly talented, and so passionate. It would be such a waste, chaining him to this mountain.” Kyungsoo’s eyes raised up to the mountain in question. “I will miss him, but he needs to live his own life. And, perhaps, it is time I made a new one for myself, as well.”

Chanyeol took a deep, shaky breath. “Is that a yes?” he asked tentatively.

A smile, bright and beautiful. “It is. I have not yet decided if I return your love, my Prince,” he said with a cheeky wink, “but I do quite enjoy your company. Perhaps for the moment, that is enough.” Kyungsoo took Chanyeol’s hand, and raised it to his own lips, pressing a soft, almost unbearably warm kiss to the knuckles. 

Chanyeol had to bite his lip until it bled to keep from crowing his triumph to the sky.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Even with both Chanyeol and Yifan’s help, it took a few days for Kyungsoo to prepare to leave. He had, by his own admission, nearly a century of treasures and possessions built up in his cave.

Some of it was junk, set aside to throw away, or burn, or sell for scrap. Some of it was worth selling, so they did, taking it down to that shopkeep and trading for gold or supplies for the journey. And some was precious, too precious to lose, and the crates of items coming with them grew full - as did the ones of riches Kyungsoo was leaving to Yifan.

Kyungsoo somehow managed to wheedle out Chanyeol’s daydream about riding triumphant back to his kingdom, and took a rather unfair amount of delight in digging through his pile for the most beautiful set of armor - dragonscale, like Yifan’s, except in the fiery colors of the sunset - and the most ornate, flashiest sword.

Chanyeol did have to ask him how he had obtained these things, and Kyungsoo told him that while some of them had come from knights or princes who had seen him as nothing more than a potential feather in their cap, that many more had been purchased, or found. _**We are like magpies,**_ he said, with a smile in his eyes. _**We are drawn to the shiny, no matter how gaudy.**_ A large wing encircled him, drawing him close to Kyungsoo’s side. _**Don’t fret, Prince. I will not be a danger to your people.**_

(Chanyeol didn’t have the heart to ask about the pile of bodies in the underground river, but later, when Kyungsoo was out, he mentioned it to Yifan. Yifan raised an eyebrow and told him that Kyungsoo was far from the only dragon in these mountains, which, _oh_.)

(It occurred to Chanyeol, a bit afterwards, that if Kyungsoo ever accepted his offer to be lovers, then Yifan would sort of be his nephew. He refrained from mentioning that one, but the thought made him smile.)

It was two months to the day when they finally took their leave of the townspeople, and that actually hurt more than Chanyeol was expecting. He’d made himself an odd little home there. But then, as the sun climbed in the sky, they were off.

With Kyungsoo able to take to the sky to scope out their route, the road home was much less perilous. There was, indeed, a path almost straight to the east, cutting through a pass in the mountains and skirting around the edge of the Enchanted Forest, a path that Chanyeol would almost certainly have found if Baekhyun hadn’t given him such confusing direction in the first place.

(Chanyeol did not see Baekhyun again, but he’d done as he was asked, so he considered his debt paid. He almost wished he could see Yifan’s face when the fairy finally made himself known.)

The trip home took a week, and for that week, Kyungsoo and Chanyeol were together every moment. Chanyeol was a bit afraid they would tire of each other - or at least, that Kyungsoo would tire of him - but they found themselves becoming closer every day. Every day, Chanyeol fell more in love, and every day, as Kyungsoo’s walls slowly came down, he became more and more hopeful that Kyungsoo would return his affections some day.

They were camped in familiar territory, less than a day’s ride from home, and Kyungsoo was in human form and tucked comfortably against Chanyeol’s side.

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo murmured, his fingers twisting together in his lap. Something in his tone made Chanyeol look down at him in concern. “I’m afraid I have not been...entirely truthful with you.”

His brow furrowing, Chanyeol asked, “How so?”

“I...lied. When I said I was not yet in love with you, I lied.”

_….Oh._

Chanyeol couldn’t breathe.

“I’m sorry,” Kyungsoo murmured softly. “I only wished to...to protect my heart, I suppose. I could not be certain, at first, that you really meant it.” He glanced up, shy. “I admire how easily you said it to me. You are brave in more ways than one.”

“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol breathed. “Then, does this mean you believe me now?”

Kyungsoo nodded. “I do.” He turned, pulling away from Chanyeol’s side so he could kneel facing Chanyeol. “I do. I believe that you love me. And I...I love you.” He nodded, very decisively. “What you have offered me - _everything_ you have offered me - I want. I would be a fool to refuse you. But, Chanyeol...when you said that you would ask me to be Queen. To _marry_ you. If you could. Did you...did you mean that?”

“Of course I did,” Chanyeol said firmly. “Not only for myself, but for my people. You would be an excellent Queen.” His smile was wry. “If only who I marry was not of such political importance, I would marry you anyway.”

Kyungsoo nodded again, taking a deep, steadying breath. “That’s what I needed to hear,” he said, and stood. “I. I have something to show you.”

He closed his eyes, and didn’t move for a long moment. Chanyeol was about to ask him what he was supposed to be seeing - when he saw it. Kyungsoo’s body was _changing_. Not the way it did when he shifted between dragon and man, but in a different way, and when Chanyeol realized what was happening, he leapt to his feet.

Kyungsoo was even smaller than before, slight and delicate, his bone structure just the slightest bit different. His hair had lengthened, curling gently against his shoulders, and his proportions had changed.

He was a _woman_.

“What.” Chanyeol said, unable to believe what he was seeing. “ _What._ ”

Soft, round eyes fluttered open, still the same but seeming more massive and more innocent in that fine-boned face. “Dragons are genderless,” Kyungsoo said, and oh, his - her - voice was different too, just a little bit higher, but warm and full-bodied. “I don’t have total control of my features, but this, I can control. If you want me to be your Queen, I will serve your people gladly.”

Chanyeol sat down _very hard_.

“This is a dream come true,” he said numbly, and Kyungsoo laughed. She dropped to her knees astride his lap, and Chanyeol’s arms came up around her, and the way she felt both familiar and not made his heart pound. “If you’re sure. My Gods, Kyungsoo, if you’re sure, I would be _honored._ ”

“There’s only one thing,” Kyungsoo said, tucking her head against his neck. “I can’t have children. I’m sorry, I can’t bear you heirs.”

“That’s okay,” Chanyeol murmured, stroking her hair. “I’ll name Yura and her family my heirs. She would be more than happy to raise the future King.” Kyungsoo sighed and melted against him, and Chanyeol squeezed her tightly and said “I am the luckiest man in the world.”

The body in his arms shifted, changing, and the weight grew just a bit. Kyungsoo, _his_ Kyungsoo, looked up at him. “And I the luckiest dragon,” he murmured.

He leaned up, and Chanyeol leaned down, and their first kiss should feel like stars bursting or angels singing, but it didn’t. It felt like the natural thing, the _simple_ thing. It felt _right_.

Like coming home.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

He’d sent word to the castle the moment he’d reached the border of his kingdom, so by the time Chanyeol rode into the palace, astride a white stallion, in armor like the sunset, with his beautiful maiden seated comfortably in front of him, there was a massive crowd to greet him. And how they _cheered_.

It was exactly what he’d wanted, but he barely saw it. 

All he saw was Kyungsoo, the way she lit up under the adoration of the people, the way she greeted his family with grace and the way she cuddled close to him as he announced their marriage.

And when she they were surrounded by well-wishers, fielding questions and accepting congratulations, Chanyeol watched her smile, and laugh, and fell all over again.


End file.
